Year of the Dragon
by Myranya
Summary: Harry's 5th year. Some serious preparations are taking place to prepare for Voldemort's inevitable attack, and of course there are regular classes, Quidditch, more...
1. Arrival and the Sorting

This is another '5th year story'. I have gone a little by the rumors of the next book, but this is not an attempt to get as close to the book as I can get. I have tried to make it canon for as far as the first four books are concerned, although even that is difficult since (as all dedicated HP fans know : ) there are some inconsistencies between the books/movies and the books/interviews, as to the number of students at Hogwarts (numbers in the classes don't match up with the numbers JK Rowling named in interviews), doing magic outside school (Hermione repairing Harry's glasses in Diagon Alley), etc. Since this is their fifth year one of the things that bugged me most was that we still don't know the absolute number of Prefects chosen each year, but I went with two per house per year, if anyone cares I will tell you how I arrived at that figure. 

I'm trying to finish it before June 21st but work is crazy and I don't know if I will make it! Don't worry, if not I'll still finish it as an AU story.

This is the sequel to 'Summer with –Oh no, not you!" which you'll probably have to read first or you'll be a little confused as to Harry's and Snape's behavior. No slash, and no Severitus, nothing really extreme, but it'll still make more sense.

Spoilers: all 4 books, some 5th book rumors.

Category: General/Adventure. Covers the entire year with some angst, some humour, some adventure and just about anything else.

Rating: PG/PG-13'ish for an occasional cuss word. No sex, no torture. It's a little darker than I'd planned on, what with the war preparations and all.

Ships: Nothing major, still a bit too early for my favorite pairing (HG/SS). Some HP/GW may start to develop but nothing major yet at this point! Any folks who think I'm a prude, fine, deal with it and be patient. Or, of course, you could check out some of my other stories which take place after school.: )

Disclaimer: I don't own them. JK Rowling does. I only play with them!

**1. Arrival and the Sorting.**

Harry scanned the long line of wagons and soon spotted Ron and Hermione. He rushed over excitedly. Some other students gave him strange looks, or called out to him asking how come he was here already, but he ignored them for now. He slapped Ron on the back, Hermione hugged him, and he was almost pushed over when Fred and George also joined in. 

"It's great to see you, Harry!" Hermione said.

Ginny gave him a hug too, then blushed and quickly drew back among her brothers. She'd grown taller and cut her hair a little shorter, just below shoulder length. It looked good on her.

"Yeah, Draco was hoping you had missed the train, we just kept laughing and wouldn't tell him, drove him nuts," Ron told him.

"I'm sorry I missed that," Harry laughed. 

"There he is now," George said, pointing. "Hey, Draco!"

Draco turned to look who was calling and blinked when he saw who George was pointing at. Harry waved, grinning, and Draco turned back quickly, striding off towards the carriages. 

"Come on, let's get a carriage before they're all full," Fred urged them on. Not that such a thing ever happened, there was enough room for everyone, but they started that way anyhow. 

Hagrid walked the length of the platform, calling for the first-years in his booming voice, raising his hand in greeting to the Weasleys and Hermione. He paused briefly as they passed him.

"Congratulations, Hermione, I see you made Prefect as well," he said, looking at her badge.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione said. Then she grinned and turned to Harry as Hagrid hurried on. "I thought I wasn't going to be chosen, Percy was owled at the start of summer."

Harry grinned back. Of course, he'd thought the same thing, but he'd also got himself in a lot more trouble, the previous years.

"You must have known you'd be Prefect," he said. "If you weren't, no one would be."

Hermione blushed, especially when the others all loudly agreed.

They found a carriage and settled in. Neville jumped in at the last moment. 

"How come you're here, did you really spend all summer with Snape?" he asked, wide-eyed. 

Of course, Ron and Hermione would've told some of their friends. Harry grinned again. It would be the ultimate nightmare for Neville, that much was certain. 

"I lived," he quipped. "Barely."

Neville took the bait and started, and Harry burst out laughing. Especially when he noticed Ron was looking rather nervous as well.

"Oh, really, Snape isn't going to kill anyone," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "How'd it really go?"

"It wasn't too bad," Harry said. He did not think he could explain, or that Ron and Neville would believe him if he did. Hermione might, but it'd take too long for the short ride to the castle. So he skirted the subject. "I should thank my uncle, I've been doing magic all the time and I've been able to fly every day."

"Did he really try to kill you?" Neville asked. 

Harry shrugged. He honestly didn't know the answer, what would have happened if he hadn't been able to run. "I don't know, he just snapped. I'm glad I got out when I did. I'll tell everything after the sorting, or I'll be telling it a dozen times."

He could see Ron and Neville look a little disappointed, but Hermione nodded. "We're almost there anyhow," she said, looking out the tiny window of the carriage. Crookshanks meowed as in agreement. 

-0-

Professor Snape watched as the students entered. Regardless of the trouble with Voldemort, there were as many new students as any other year. And almost all of last year's students had come back. Only one Muggle-born girl from Hufflepuff would not be returning, her parents had left the country and she had transferred to Beauxbatons. 

Snape had been surprised to learn Draco was returning to Hogwarts. Lucius Malfoy was quite aware that he and Dumbledore knew him for a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's inner circle. And Lucius now knew without doubt that Snape had been a spy. Regardless, Draco was stepping down from one of the carriages, followed by those two goons of his, as if nothing had happened.

Snape looked at his favorite pupil and he wondered if Draco was lost to the Dark Lord already. He had favored the boy because of his father, at first. Lucius was high among the Death Eaters, as well as rich and powerful in the Wizarding world as a whole, and it had seemed prudent to remain on his good side. But over the years he had come to like Draco. He was a decent student, a little spoiled but no more than one could expect from someone who grew up as a Malfoy, and was not afraid to do what was needed to get it his way. A real Slytherin, unlike some of the others who merely followed the easiest road to success and who were too lazy or too stupid to ever reach anything much.

No, Snape did not know if he could trust Draco. Few students would know about him, even those who came from Death Eater families. Most parents kept their children from getting involved until they were older. But the Malfoys weren't like most people, and Snape didn't doubt that Draco would know he was exposed as a spy. Would he still be able to reach him, and prevent him from joining Voldemort as soon as he finished school, or had Draco returned only to spy in turn? There was no way to be sure. But he'd had to make him a Prefect. He was the best student of his year, and passing him over was not an option. Snape might as well deliver him to the Dark Lord himself. 

Draco and his friends had reached the door and walked in. 

"Professor," Draco greeted politely. His voice was as smooth as ever. Snape followed him with his dark eyes as the boy walked into the Great Hall, all but ignoring the greetings the other Slytherins gave him. Then he, too, walked into the Great Hall and took his place at the staff table.

Scowling, he watched the rest of the students enter. Most went directly to their own tables but a few would briefly stop by a friend from one of the other houses before sitting down. Few of the Slytherins would do so, of course, they mostly kept to themselves. 

The noise level went up noticeably as a group of Gryffindors came in. The Weasleys were in the center of the group, as always. And, Snape sighed, Harry. Potter. He wondered if the boy would get into trouble again now he was among his trouble-making friends once more. Probably. Oh well. 

Finally, the students all made their way to their own seats and the noise slowly went down. Minerva came in, leading the first-years. She put a small stool down and put the Sorting Hat on top of it. Moments later, the hat started to sing its song.

"You may think I look ratty, 

you may think I'm old,

But I can tell you many tales 

no one has ever told.

I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat, 

The smartest hat around.

There is no secret in your head

So deep it can't be found.

Even so, don't be afraid,

I will not do you wrong.

I'll only use what is display'd

To tell where you belong.

The Gryffindors are known to be

The bravest of them all.

Facing anything they see

Proudly standing tall.

The Ravenclaws would rather use

Their mind to make things right,

They feel that they can never lose

With knowledge on their side

Slytherins value their ambition,

Power, cunning and might,

They believe with certainty

It'll see them through any plight.

The Hufflepuffs then, at last,

Believe in working hard 

With patience and endurance

They finish what they start.

Now put me on without delay

Just like all the rest,

I'll read your mind and I'll say

Which house will fit you best

It really was a different song every year. Why it bothered, Snape didn't know; the students weren't here for more than seven years. Only the staff got to hear more versions, and he, for one, didn't really care if the Hat used the same song or not. 

The actual sorting, now, that was different. He watched all the first-years, already trying to determine which ones would be timid and which ones would be likely to get into trouble. And, of course, he would see which students were placed in his own house. Some he knew; the youngest Nott boy was sure to be a Slytherin, and Pansy's little sister. Not all siblings were placed in the same house, but the Parkinsons were an old pureblood family and none had been sorted into another house, ever. 

Snape allowed himself a hint of a smile as the very first student, 'Aster, Janey!', was assigned to Slytherin. She neither seemed overtly nervous about being the first to be sorted, nor too bold. And not from a Death Eater family, either. 

The next three first-years were sorted into Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Then came 'Donner, Lana!', and the Hat shouted "Slytherin!"

Another family that didn't support Voldemort, at least not openly. Interesting.

'Drayden, Arnold!' became the first Gryffindor. Snape frowned as he noticed the boy's broad grin. No doubt he'd find that one breaking the rules sooner rather than later. His frown darkened as the Gryffindor table exploded in applause, the loudest as usual. 

The Sorting carried on. Another Gryffindor, then a Hufflepuff, and three in a row for Ravenclaw. The next student was a Gryffindor again, then 'Holdings, Ray!' and 'Indigo, Shana!' were sorted into Slytherin. The Holdings family was another old, Pureblood family, strongly biased against Muggles but not Death Eaters. The girl looked rather timid for his house, but usually the Hat knew what it was doing. He would keep an eye on her to make sure she settled in. And to try and make sure the kids from Death Eater's families wouldn't get too much of an influence on her. 

The next Slytherin was 'MacAlley, Taniya!'. Snape didn't know much about the families alliances, but the Hat took only seconds to decide and she seemed quite satisfied with its decision. And instead of clustering with the other new students, she took a seat next to one of the sixth-year Prefects. Now there was someone he'd keep an eye on. 

A Ravenclaw and another Gryffindor came next, then 'Moore, Torin!' for his house. Snape didn't know the family and the boy seemed very quiet. Then 'Morton, Alyssa!' was sorted into Hufflepuff, and then it was the turn of the Nott boy. No surprise, he was indeed sorted into Slytherin, as was Nikka Parkinson. 

The noise level was steadily increasing as the returning students chatted with the first-years who were sorted already and had taken their places at the tables. Snape scowled at the Gryffindor table, the source of the largest volume ever since their first new student had been selected. 

'Seaver, Neysa!'

Snape turned back to look at the first-years and his scowl deepened. Seaver was Minerva's maiden name, and this girl was a remote relation of hers. He'd known she was coming, of course. The last weeks he'd had access to all student's files, and in Minerva's absence he'd sent out the letters to new and returning students alike. But he hadn't changed his opinion since he first found out; he wasn't happy about the prospect of teaching any family member of Minerva's. She bugged him bad enough when he took points from any of her Gryffindors, any time he'd have to take points from Miss Seaver would no doubt lead to another one of those _discussions_. As if it was his fault that damn reckless 'bravery' of her students got them into trouble all the time. 

"Gryffindor!" the Hat shouted. Of course. Applause broke out, at the Gryffindor table and even from several of the staff. Now who was playing favourites?

A Ravenclaw, a Hufflepuff, and another Ravenclaw followed Miss Seaver, then two more boys were sorted into Slytherin. Both looked quite bold, and their families were, like the Holdings, strongly anti-Muggle. They'd likely get into trouble with the Gryffindors. Not that Snape minded that much, but he'd still have to make sure it didn't get out of hand. He always did; it was just that some of the staff had a different opinion on what constituted 'getting out of hand'.

There were four more students, but no more Slytherins. The last, 'Yule, Maisie', went to Gryffindor. Snape waited impatiently as the girl walked to her seat. Minerva took the Sorting Hat and the stool, taking them away. Then Albus stood up, and the noise finally died down, even at the Gryffindor table.

"Welcome, everyone. I will have some notices after dinner, but first…," the Headmaster paused dramatically. "Let there be FOOD!"

Exactly on cue, the food appeared on the plates, and the students roared in approval and, in case of many of the first-years, astonishment. Snape sighed. Of course the food appeared on the plates at exactly the right moment, it always did. Trust Albus to turn it into a Muggle magician's trick. At least the food was excellent, as always. He picked up his knife and fork and started to eat.

Much too soon, Minerva returned and took her seat next to him. Thankfully Arabella Figg, on his other side, had the good sense not to start a conversation with him. 

Minerva did try to talk to him –won't she ever give up? As usual, when it wasn't extremely important school business that required actual conversation, he replied with a few nods and grunts and left the talking to her. He was glad when desert was served, and even more so when the meal was over. 

Dumbledore stood up again and soon had the attention of all the students.

"Now that we've all eaten, as I mentioned before, I have some announcements to make. First, I'd like to introduce the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Figg."

Snape glowered as the students and most of the staff applauded. His black eyes darted to the Gryffindor table, and he got a small bit of satisfaction out of noticing Potter clapped politely but rather unenthusiastically, then leaned over to speak to the Weasley boy. And if he wasn't mistaken, Minerva wasn't clapping quite as loud as she usually did. Well, he didn't like her but she, at least, had some sense. When she chose to use it, that was.

"For all the new students and as a reminder to those returning, the Forbidden Forest is, guess what, forbidden. That goes for everyone, no exceptions. It's also forbidden to use magic in the corridors between classes, and any gag items that create a mess are probably on the extensive list of forbidden objects of Mr Filch, the caretaker. I will spare you reciting the entire thing, since I suppose some of you do want to get some sleep before classes start tomorrow morning," Albus paused to wait for the laughter to die down, "but the entire list can be viewed in Mr Filch's office."

"There are several openings in the various Quidditch teams, anyone second year and up who is interested, see Madam Hooch," the Headmaster continued. "And last but not least, I must speak to you of a more serious topic."

The students who had started to murmur about the Headmaster's earlier remarks became quiet again.

"Although the Ministry of Magic still tries to deny that Voldemort has actually returned, and makes it believe the latest incidents have all been caused by Death Eaters acting without their old leader, all the returning students already know that Voldemort is, indeed, back, and trying to regain his strength. In the light of this, it is my duty to prepare each and every one of you for whatever may come. While a good part of the original curriculum will remain in tact, all classes will from now on pay special attention to various methods of defense. Students in all grades will learn basic offensive and defensive spells, the duelling club will be resurrected and students are encouraged to take part in it. And finally, any of those students fifth year and up who wish to learn and are judged capable by Professor Flitwick will start Apparating lessons. Fourth year students whose families are specifically targeted may also apply."

If the students had been deadly silent when Albus spoke Voldemort's name, now they started to talk among themselves, excitingly. The Ministry did not allow any underage wizards to Apparate, of course, but Snape fully agreed with the Headmaster's decision to break this particular rule. An age limit was always a rather arbitrary thing. Most of the fifth year students would be able to learn, if they paid attention for once, and a number of others would always be a danger to themselves no matter how old they were. Longbottom certainly would not be allowed to take these lessons, that much was sure. And for the rest, well, they could be facing worse dangers. Voldemort, for one.

"Time for bed, everybody. Th-th-that's all, folks!" Albus called out over the hubbub, squeaking the last few words in a funny, high voice, and for some reason a good number of the students across the hall burst out in laughter. Snape kept his face carefully blank as he stood, but inwardly he sighed, exasperated. The weird, stuttering voice wasn't _that_ funny. At least for once, he wasn't the only one not to catch the joke, even the Weasleys were shrugging and giving Harry strange looks. With a swirl of his robes, he left the Great Hall.


	2. School starts

**2.  School starts.**

Harry and Hermione, as the new Prefects, gathered the new students after the feast to lead them to the Gryffindor tower. Harry felt uncomfortable as the younger students looked at his scar in awe, he didn't think he would ever get used to that. Fred and George snickered. 

"He gives out signatures if you ask him nicely," George said.

"Let me warn you, don't believe anything either one of those two tells you," Harry told the first-years smoothly. "And also, don't eat any sweets they offer."

"Aw, don't tell them," Fred complained.

"Serves you right," Ron grinned.

"We came up with the greatest ideas this summer, wait 'til you see some of this stuff!" George said enthusiastically. 

"It better not be anything illegal," Hermione cautioned him.

"'course not!" Fred seemed affronted. 

"It can't possibly be on Filch's list, we just invented it," his brother put in.

Of course, that only meant the list would be a little longer yet, as soon as Filch found out. But Harry didn't mind too much, the Weasley twins could be exasperating but they were never malicious. He grinned. "Now that you've all met the Weasley twins, let's go to the dormitory. The castle is pretty big, pay attention so you don't get lost!"

He walked out into the hall, followed by the first-years.

They climbed the first stairs, then turned a corner, only to be greeted by small pallets pelting them. Peeves hung in the middle of the corridor, using a blow pipe to shoot tiny balls at them. One exploded on Hermione's robes and a bright yellow stain showed. Paint balls!

"Stop that, Peeves!" Hermione exclaimed, annoyed. 

"Whee-hee, more little newbies, what fun." 

Another paint ball exploded on a first-year's chest.

"Peeves, go away," Harry said darkly.

"Or what? You'd do magic in the corridors, as a Prefect, in front of all these ickle firsties? That'd be a great example."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. Wanna find out?"

"You really are no fun." With a look of disgust on his face, Peeves swooped over the group and took off. From behind them, Harry could just hear him as he targeted some other unfortunate students. Hermione and Ron looked at him, startled.

"That's Peeves," Harry explained to the startled first-years. "Watch out for him, he can be a real pain. He loves to cause trouble and he doesn't listen to anyone but the Bloody Baron."

He was really glad Peeves hadn't called him on his bluff, for he didn't think it would have been a good start to use magic against the poltergeist on the very first evening of the school year. But he was learning how to handle Peeves. The spirit was just a big bully and as long as he wasn't impressed, Peeves would go off to pick on someone else who was an easier target. 

They continued down the hall and soon arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady. She greeted them friendly.

Harry had changed the password, as was usual at the start of the year, and now told the group the new one, _'Hoky Poky'_. The Fat Lady swung open and the entire group clambered in through the hole. 

Once the first-years had gone to their rooms, the fifth-years and a number of others gathered around Harry. 

"So what happened, how'd you end up here before the year started?"

"What'd you do to Peeves that made him back off?"

"Did Death Eaters try to kill you?"

"Did Death Eaters attack your cousin?"

"Did you really spent all your summer having detention with Snape, what'd you do to get that?"

Harry sighed. That was the problem with rumors, they were hardly accurate. He hadn't had much time during the feast to tell everything, in between the Sorting, the food, the new students, and the few snippets that he'd told had already started a life of their own.

"Hold on, okay, I'll tell you all," he said as he pulled up a chair. 

He started to tell all about the incident, his uncle and his cousin. He also described arriving at Hogwarts, but once again he didn't go into much detail about how he'd helped Snape every afternoon. Most of his classmates seemed absolutely horrified at the idea, as if it had indeed been three weeks of detentions. Harry realised he'd probably have reacted the same if it'd happened to anyone else. 

Finally the curiosity of his house-mates was sated, and he hoped the most outrageous rumors would be stopped. 

"I still don't know how you managed, three weeks with Snape," Neville said, shuddering.

"You must have learned a lot, I'm sure you will get a better grade in Potions this year," Hermione commented. 

"That's all you think of, 'mione," Ron exclaimed. "Grades! Harry was stuck with the greasy git for three weeks and all you're thinking about is grades!"

"It was okay, Ron, really," Harry said. He yawned. "And now, I'm gonna go to bed, I'm really tired."

Harry woke up the next morning and grinned as he realised the school year had started. He'd missed his friends. And he was eager to find out their schedule. He got dressed quickly, then went to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Once everyone was seated, Professor McGonagall handed out the time tables. 

"Oh, we got Defense against the Dark Arts first thing!" Ron exclaimed. 

Hermione frowned a little. "I hope Professor Figg is any good as a teacher."

Harry remained silent, he couldn't really imagine Mrs Figg as a teacher and knew he'd just have to wait and see.

They filed into the classroom and Mrs Figg entered, looking almost as Muggle as she had while living in Little Whinging. Harry figured she was probably used to Muggle clothing after all those years.

She started with a roll call, taking the time to study everyone for a while as she called their names. When she reached Harry she did not pause, merely nodded at him and went on. 

"As you all know," she started off as soon as she was done taking roll, "You-Know-Who has returned and all classes this year will include various defense techniques. This class, of course, will be especially important. I hope you have paid attention in the previous years to the dealings with such small annoyances as Red Caps and Kappa's, for this year we will have little time for such. I will teach you how to defend yourself against Dark Magic cast by humans, by far the most dangerous 'creatures' on Earth."

"I hear last year you have already seen the Unforgivables, and tried to resist the Imperius curse. By the end of term, I want everyone to be able to resist this curse. And yes, that means casting it too, for you will practice in pairs, if only in class. Anyone who as much as says 'Imperio', even in jest, outside this classroom will receive a month's worth of detention."

Lavender and Seamus gasped audibly, and even Ron looked uneasy. Hermione merely nodded thoughtfully, and Harry shuddered. He knew he could throw off the curse already, although it was far from easy, but he strongly disliked the idea of casting it on anyone. Even if it were only to help his friends learn to fight it.

"Won't we get into trouble for casting it, even in class?" Lavender asked, nervously.

"The Headmaster and I take full responsibility. Still, I would advise you not to tell anyone outside of Hogwarts, or even the younger students, what you learn in this class, Unforgivables or no. There are enough children from Death Eaters in this school that most I teach will get back to You-Know-Who, but anything he doesn't know can work in our advantage. He is more dangerous than the Ministry will ever be."

Lavender nodded, looking quite white in the face. Harry had to admit that so far, he was impressed. Mrs Figg –Professor Figg, he reminded himself, he'd have to think of her as Professor Figg- seemed to know what she was doing and went straight to the point.

"Will we be.. _covering_ the other two, too?" Parvati asked next, shifting in her seat.

"You mean if you will learn to cast them. No. I believe you have covered them last year, I will go over them, but there is no known defense against them and thus nothing to practice. We have not yet reached a point where we require students to learn these curses to cast them for any other reason."

Harry took note of the fact she said 'yet'. Damn, things were more serious than he'd realised. He nodded. 

Professor Figg continued to give an outline of the things she meant to cover this year, shielding spells and curses. While she spoke, Lavender and Parvati whispered about You-Know-Who and the Imperius curse. Harry threw them an irritated glance as he tried to concentrate, but they ignored him. Professor Figg hadn't even looked in their direction. Hadn't she noticed or didn't she care? She just kept talking and didn't look around. Before he could be sure, the first period was over. 

Their next class was Herbology. Professor Sprout started them on poisonous plants and their antidotes, and plants with natural healing properties. She didn't seem overtly bothered at the changes in the lesson plans, but neither was she as cheerful as she had been.

Neville was clearly relieved there would be something he was good at, Harry thought it was strange how his friend wasn't nervous around even the most dangerous of plants. He himself walked carefully among the various large tentacula's and the more innocent looking flowers of which a single petal could kill a dozen men, but Neville moved almost as easily as Professor Sprout and seemed to know which plants to avoid and which to ward off with a small slap, before she even told them. 

After their tour through the greenhouse, the only one they hadn't entered any of the previous years, Professor Sprout gave them various plants, seeds and leaves to identify, lecturing them on the many beneficial plants which had poisonous look-a-likes. 

In the afternoon they had History of Magic, their last class of the day. Binns floated into the classroom looking more distressed than Harry had ever seen the ghost, even that one time when Hermione had asked him about the Chamber of Secrets.

"I, ehm, I, I regret we will not be covering the wars of the Giants, as would normally be done in the fifth year. Instead, the Headmaster has ordered  me to, ehm, to jump ahead to the early twentieth century and speak about, about Grindelwald and You-Know-Who." Distaste and disapproval were clear in the ghost's thin voice.

"I have filed an official protest, and I hope in time the Board of Directors of the school will see it fit to let me continue my usual curriculum, as these changes will leave a serious gap in your education. In the meantime, please open your books to chapter, chapter 28, 'The, ehm, the Rise of Grindelwald in the 1920's'."

For the entire period, Professor Binns lectured on the Wizarding world and the events that led up to Grindelwald's reign of power. Instead of his usual, droning voice, he spoke hesitantly. He frequently halted, pursing his lips and shaking his head, as if it was a physical effort to speak. Or whatever the equivalent of a physical effort was, for a ghost. If he'd had a body, Harry was sure he would've had beads of sweat on his brow.

Harry had several questions he wanted to ask. This material was more interesting than anything they had covered in this class before, and, if you asked him, much more important as well. He paid close attention and it was easy to remain awake, even though the halting tone was hardly an improvement over the old, toneless drone. But he didn't dare raise his hand and cause even more distress for the poor Professor. He glanced at his friends and noticed even Hermione kept her hand down, although she wrote lots of notes and frowned frequently.

The lesson wound to an end, and not a moment too soon. Harry thought Professor Binns was getting fuzzy around the edges. Could a ghost get a heart attack? 

Once they were out of the classroom, he asked Hermione.

"I don't think so," she frowned. "But he sure was distressed, wasn't he? If he really became a ghost getting up to teach as he'd always done, even though he had just died, then breaking that routine could be a serious problem for him. I should look it up in the library."

Harry smiled, at least some things hadn't changed. No matter how bad things were, Hermione would still find her answers in the library. 

They made their way back to the Gryffindor tower, and soon went downstairs for dinner. The students were quiet, speaking in subdued tones. The new lesson plans had clearly impressed almost everyone. Only most of the Slytherins seemed unaffected. No doubt they considered it good news that the situation was so grave.

The next morning they had their first Potions class of the year. Even though Harry knew it wouldn't be anything like the summer, he'd been looking forward to it. 

Professor Snape held a similar lecture as the other teachers, giving them their new curriculum –healing potions, poisons, and antidotes. Then they made a restorative draught. 

Harry had known this one was coming –he'd helped prepare some of the ingredients for it- and thus he had an easy time. He still made sure not to be careless, it would never do to mess up on his first day back in class. 

Professor Snape stalked through the classroom as usual, taking points from Neville when the boy dropped his ladle and making scathing remarks at Hermione when she tried to help Neville, but Harry was no longer intimidated by the Potions Master's manner and simply kept his attention on his own cauldron. 

After lunch came Charms, and to Harry's surprise and delight, Professor Flitwick started them on several tests which, he told them, would determine if they'd be allowed to learn how to Apparate. After the other classes, Harry hadn't thought it would be long, but he hadn't expected to start in the first week either. 

He was eager to learn, and while he knew he would be learning no matter how he did on the tests, being who he was, he tried to do well. He earned his first five points of the year by the time the period was over. 

Hermione, of course, did well, and even Ron worked hard this time. Only Neville was so nervous he dropped his wand twice, and they weren't actually Apparating yet. 

Transfiguration was also exciting, Professor McGonagall showing them how to transfigure people into animals, with once again the admonishment that anyone caught doing any such thing outside the classroom would be in serious trouble. She always was stern, but seemed even more serious this year. Harry hoped even the Slytherins wouldn't be about to try using her lessons against him and the rest of the Gryffindors. 

The only two classes that were barely affected by the new curriculum were Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. Apparently even Dumbledore wouldn't let Hagrid use the nasty creatures Voldemort might use in his lessons, and Professor Trelawney's predictions of impending doom were hardly worse than other years. Of course if you believed her, they all were about to die; Harry just didn't think her particular predictions were any more accurate than before.

Thursday evening Harry had his first shift patrolling the halls. Every evening, a fifth-year, a sixth-year and a seventh-year Prefect made the rounds through the castle, early in the evening helping anyone who might have a problem or question, later checking all the students made it to their respective towers in time for curfew. 

After some consideration, he decided to take his Marauder's Map. Harry was sure the Headmaster was the one who had returned it to him, just days after the summer had started, although it had come in an unmarked envelop and was delivered by an owl Harry hadn't recognized. Now he was using it for a quite different purpose for which it was created, and Harry felt a little guilty as he spoke the words to activate it. 

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." It was a lie, and Harry didn't like lying, even to a thing. But while the Map seemed to have a mind of its own –even now he didn't hate Professor Snape anymore, he still grinned as he remembered how the Map had written insults at him, that had been too funny- it didn't work any different on his Prefects rounds than it did when he'd been sneaking around.

He kept the Map out of sight, of course, but used it first to break up a group of second-years Slytherins and Gryffindors who'd been arguing in the hallway near the Transfiguration classroom, then intercept a sixth-year Hufflepuff on his way to the kitchens. No one argued when he sent them to their respective dormitories. This was going to be a snap.


	3. A study group?

**3. A study group?**

The next day, Friday, Professor McGonagall asked Ron, Hermione and Harry to stay after class. She looked more serious than before, but Harry didn't have long to worry what was up as she came straight to the point. 

"The Headmaster wants a small group of trusted students to take extra lessons in defense, and more. You will be told the details in the first class, tomorrow afternoon. The others, most Prefects, a few others, are all asked to volunteer, but for the three of you I will not pretend to give you a choice. Harry of course is our main concern but I'm afraid you have all three drawn more than enough attention of You-Know-Who."

Harry nodded, so did Hermione. Ron turned a little pale, although Harry knew his friend would never back out.

"Officially, the class is a study group. Even so, I don't expect it will be possible to hide the entire purpose of the lessons. What is allowed to get out is that all of you will be learning how to watch, maintain, and if necessary restore the wards on the school. There will be a number of other projects, which we hope to keep from prying eyes. No one is to know, not even your closest friends or family members, nor any of the staff apart from the Headmaster, Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape, Professor Figg and myself."

"I understand, Professor," Harry replied solemnly. 

Ron and Hermione nodded.

"Charms classroom, seven o'clock tonight," Professor McGonagall said.

For the rest of the afternoon, Harry was both eager and anxious to find out what the extra lessons would entail. It seemed every day he learned the situation was a little more serious yet. 

The three of them entered the classroom together, and were the first students there. Only the Headmaster, Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall were present. 

"Ah, Harry, Hermione, Ron, good to see you," Dumbledore greeted them heartily. "How are your classes so far?"

"Fine, Professor," Harry replied. "Thank you."

"Fine, thank you," Hermione added. 

"Great, Professor," Ron looked uneasy. "Who else is going to be here?" 

"You'll see," Professor McGonagall berated him. She seemed edgy, as if she wasn't happy to be here at all. 

None of their teachers seemed inclined to tell them more, not until everyone was present. Which didn't take long. To Harry's chagrin, Mrs Figg –no, Professor Figg- came in, but of course she would be there, she was the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher after all, and Professor McGonagall had named her as one who was involved. Then most of the other Prefects joined them, a sixth-year Slytherin, two seventh-year Ravenclaws, the Head Boy and Head Girl. Finally Professor Flitwick came in late followed by a large, black dog. Sirius! 

Knowing that Sirius wasn't officially cleared, Harry glanced at the Headmaster before greeting his godfather by name, instead grinning broadly as Sirius bounded over to him and jumped up against him. Hermione caught on and merely said 'hi', then kicked Ron before he could say anything more.

"In just a moment, Harry," Dumbledore cautioned him. "Is everyone here?"

"I believe so," Snape replied, sounding sour. 

Harry looked around and noticed only three Slytherins, the two sixth-year Prefects and another sixth-year he hardly knew, Joey Highmoon. Draco and Pansy weren't present, nor were either of the seventh-year Slytherin Prefects. So Snape didn't trust most of his Slytherins, Harry realised. Were they really all Death Eaters and sympathisers? 

Professor Flitwick cast a spell Harry had not heard before, but he assumed it was a warding spell, for as soon as he was done he nodded to the Headmaster and Professor Dumbledore started to speak. He, too, sounded solemn and his eyes didn't have the usual sparkle.

"First of all, I am glad all of you have agreed to come. You all know what you see, hear and learn in this room is not to be discussed outside this room, nor with anyone not currently present. Now I know not everyone here may get along," Dumbledore looked pointedly at Snape, and also threw a warning glance at Barin, the sixth-year Gryffindor Prefect who had been eyeing the Slytherins, "but I can assure you, everyone in this room can be trusted. Including someone who has graciously offered his help, Sirius Black."

Sirius changed into his human form to the gasps of most of the students. 

"Harry, good to see you!" he said, and hugged him. That draw more shocked gasps, but also seemed to put the other students at ease. Harry wondered if Dumbledore had planned it that way, while he returned his godfather's hug. 

"Great to see you too, Sirius. Sorry I wrote so little over the summer." Harry hadn't dared write Sirius in any detail. He liked Sirius a lot, but also was a bit afraid of his godfather's temper. There was no telling what he'd have done to Uncle Vernon if Harry had told exactly how he'd ended up at Hogwarts. And he didn't think he could explain how he'd managed to work things out with Snape, either. He could see Snape's scowl across the room even now. 

"I won't go into all the details, suffice to say Sirius Black is completely innocent of the crimes brought against him. Unfortunately, I can not provide proof sufficient for the Ministry, so his presence here will remain a secret. He will be helping with some of your lessons," Dumbledore told them.

"I regret having to ask students to become involved, but I see no other way short of closing the school. We do not have enough staff to hold off an attack and protect the students, and as long as the Ministry refuses to see the gravity of the situation and send us some Aurors, that means I have to rely on you. When the attack on Hogwarts comes, the Prefects will lead the students out, and I want you all to be able to defend yourselves in any way necessary. That includes using the Killing Curse."

Harry felt queasy at the thought. He'd known he was to face Voldemort, and he had wondered if anyone would teach him the Killing Curse or that they'd assume he'd find a way to make kill the Dark wizard another way. Or perhaps they expected it work for him at first try. But in spite of all that, he still disliked the idea of using Avada Kedavra, and he certainly hadn't expected it to be taught to this entire group. 

From their reactions, Harry was certain the other students had been told this much before, probably when they were given the choice to join or not. Only Ron turned white. Hermione simply nodded, like she had done in Defense class when they were told they'd have to practice the Imperius spell. Harry felt a little jealous, if only he could accept everything with such cool logic as she seemed to be able to!

"Something rather more pleasant, but a lot more difficult as well," Dumbledore continued. "You will be learning to be Animagi. Several recent events have shown me how useful it can be to be an Animagus. Now not everyone may succeed, and I'll be surprised if anyone manages to successfully transform within a year and a half, perhaps two, but I hope that we will be in time for it to make a difference."

This time Harry felt excited. He would love to be an Animagus, regardless of the reasons! He grinned, suppressing the urge to whoop out loud. He didn't think the other students had been told about this, for this time, they looked more surprised than he and his friends. Ron grinned widely, and Hermione looked enthusiastic as well.

"If it takes that long, do we still participate in the Animagus training?" Sonya, a seventh-year Hufflepuff Prefect, asked. 

"We will be happy to assist you after you leave, and it will almost certainly be an advantage to you at one time or another, but it is a long-term project. Any seventh-years who do not want to may be exempt from those training sessions," Professor McGonagall replied.

"Thank you, but I was just concerned I'd not be able to finish. I'd like to learn," Sonya replied, and the other seventh-years agreed. 

Professor McGonagall nodded, looking quite satisfied. 

"And of course you will learn to work with the wards on the castle," the Headmaster said finally. "Which is the only goal of this class that is allowed to become known, although of course only in a general sense. Now, for today we will not be starting any of these lessons. Instead, I want you all to brainstorm. You've just heard those things we came up with, but some of you may have an idea we did not come up with yet. Say whatever comes to mind, don't be afraid to feel silly."

As usual, Hermione was the first to put up her hand. "I know Muggle items don't work at Hogwarts, but won't it work to set up an extra line of Muggle security cameras outside the wards? They would work there."

"They are very easy to fool using magic, Miss Granger," Snape replied immediately. 

Hermione looked put down, but the Headmaster nodded at her encouragingly. "Don't worry, it was a good thought. Anyone else?"

Snape snorted, and McGonagall glared at him. 

"What about patrolling the castle grounds on broomsticks?" Yoni, a Ravenclaw Prefect, asked.

"You'd make a perfect target for any curse," Barin replied. Several others nodded and Yoni shrugged as she realized they were right.

Harry looked at Sirius, not sure he wanted to bring up his own idea. A lot of people knew about the Map, now, but Harry didn't think anyone but the Headmaster –and Ron and Hermione, of course- knew it was currently in his trunk. Hm, he could phrase it so he didn't actually tell he had the Map in his possession.

"Would it be a good idea to monitor the map of Hogwarts, or to make copies of it?" he said carefully.

Dumbledore smiled briefly, but shook his head. "The wards will do any monitoring just as well, and it's too dangerous to make more copies. The more copies there are, the more can fall into the wrong hands. It's better the one we have remains where it is now." 

This time, the Headmaster's eyes did twinkle, and Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Could we use Muggle weapons to defend the castle?" Taniya, a Muggle-born Hufflepuff suggested.

"Your wand can be used for both offensive and defensive spells," Sirius replied. "And it would be difficult to use both at once."

"Would it help if more people learned Parseltongue?" Hermione wondered.

Harry stared at her, open-mouthed. He hadn't thought of that, was it even possible?

"Parseltongue is a talent, it isn't learned," Professor Snape said shortly.

"Has anyone ever tried?" Hermione asked.

Snape looked taken aback. "No, of course not."

"Then how can you know it's impossible? It's a language, made up out of sounds. Even if we can only learn certain phrases, without really understanding what it means, it could be used for passwords for example, that no one but us and You-Know-Who himself could ever find."

Snape frowned, then looked at Harry. "Do you know any useful phrases or words in Parseltongue?"

"I can't write it down or anything, I just… think what I want to say and if I'm speaking to a snake it comes out in Parseltongue. But I don't know why someone who listens carefully couldn't imitate the sounds. Maybe that is possible."

"Would Voldemort's snake listen to anyone who speaks Parseltongue?" Professor McGonagall asked. 

Snape shook his head before Harry could. "It's too intelligent for that, however, it may be momentarily confused if it were told to back off in its own language. If a short phrase could be learned accurately, then it might be worth the trouble. I don't see what use it will be to learn more of the language."

Dumbledore looked at Harry and his friends. "Well, we have to find out if it works and 'sod off' seems as good a phrase as any. Why don't you three work on this during the next week and see if it's feasible. We can decide if it can be used for any other purposes depending on your results. Harry, do you need a live snake or will a painting do?"

"I think a painting will be fine, sir, thank you," Harry replied. He still wasn't sure if it would work –he didn't know if he shaped the Parseltongue with his mouth or that some magic was involved in that, too. But he was quite willing to give it a try.

Dumbledore nodded. "Good. Anyone else?"

One after the other, everyone shook their heads. 

"Then, if there are no further questions, this meeting is concluded. We will meet again next week, same time. Harry, I'll find you a snake and a place to work and let you know."

When Dumbledore was sure no one had anything else to add, he dismissed them all. 

"We'll find some time to talk next week, Harry," Sirius promised, then transformed back into his Animagus form. 

Professor Flitwick took out his wand and spoke another spell, and everyone filed out of the room. Harry, Ron and Hermione went back to their common room, and Harry regretted they could not risk talking about what they had just heard. He couldn't wait what kind of Animagus form he'd be, would he be a stag like his father? That would be wonderful, although perhaps it was not the most practical form, a cat or dog or even a rat could more easily sneak into places. No, not a rat, no matter how easy it would be to get around. Anything but a rat!


	4. Snitches and Snakes

**4. Snitches and snakes.**

The next afternoon Harry could finally leave the thoughts of the war and the preparations behind him. After lunch, he went to the Quidditch pitch for the tryouts, they needed a new Captain and a new Keeper, and several students had signed up. Ron was interested in the position, too, and Harry hoped his friend would make it. He was a good player, and in Harry's opinion it was just bad luck there were so many good players only two years ahead of them. If more positions on the team had been open, Ron would likely have been on it already. Still he would have to be impartial, the entire house depended on them and there might be good candidates among the second- and third-years who had come to the tryouts. 

Ginny had come, too, although she'd made clear she didn't want to be Keeper. She hoped for a position as Chaser next year, when all three of the current Chasers and both Beaters would be gone, even if it meant she'd have only three years left to play. Since they'd have to replace five of their players next year, they'd pick at least one Chaser and at least one Beater who would be doing some training with them this year. Those backup players wouldn't get any school credit for the time spent in practice, as long as they weren't on the actual team yet, but even so quite a lot of students had shown up to try out.

They started out with a meeting of the old team, while all those who came to test flew around the pitch, warming up. Many of the students hadn't been able to fly all summer. 

Finding a place well away from the other houses –try-outs were for all teams, staging brief games between the houses as well as the usual reflex exercises using Ping-Pong balls- they sat down in the grass.

"I think Harry should be our new Captain," Fred suggested. 

"He is our best player," George added.

Harry blushed. "Thank you, but I still don't know as much of the game as all of you," he protested. "Besides, I don't want to risk being distracted and missing the Snitch. I think one of you would be better, or Angelina." 

Angelina held up her hands. "Oh, no, I'm no good at that. I agree Fred or George would be better."

The other two Chasers nodded assent. 

For once, Fred and George didn't know what to say. Harry was glad, at least they did not protest. 

"How do we choose between you two?" Katie asked.

"Do we have to?" Harry wondered. "You're always together anyhow, can't we have both of you as Captain?"

Katie looked thoughtful. "Hm, usually I'd say two Captains is asking for problems, however, in this case, I don't think there'll be any disagreements. We'll have to ask Madam Hooch if it's allowed."

"What do you think, Alicia?" Angelina asked the last member of their team, who hadn't spoken yet.

"I think it's a great idea," Alicia said. "I agree with Harry's arguments, and I think Fred and George would do a good job."

"Are we all in agreement?" Angelina asked. "Anyone who agrees, say 'aye'."

"Aye," Harry replied. 

"Aye," Katie and Alicia agreed.

"Well, who are we to disagree with the majority?" Fred and George quipped. They were grinning broadly. In fact, Harry thought they looked pretty smug. Well, they had a right to, they were good at the game. 

They got up and approached Madam Hooch.

"…so we wanted to ask if that's legal," Angelina explained. Fred and George had insisted she were the one to ask, feeling a little awkward bringing it up themselves. 

Madam Hooch smiled. "There can be only one Captain active in each game, calling for time-outs and such, but there is no reason you couldn't share the job in training, determining strategy, and everything else. I checked, and the school rules do not prohibit that, and you can either alternate or pick one of you to be Captain during the matches themselves."

"Great, thank you!" George replied, echoed by his twin and the rest of the team. 

"You knew we'd ask?" Katie asked, expressing her surprise Madam Hooch had looked it up. 

"No, not for sure. It was a toss-up between them and Harry," their coach explained.

"It'd be hard to be both Seeker and Captain," Harry replied.

Madam Hooch nodded, looking satisfied. "Very sensible." __

She glanced in the direction of the grandstands, where the Slytherin team had gathered. She didn't say anything, but they all knew immediately what she meant. 

"I bet _he'll _be Captain," Fred said.

Harry shrugged. "Hope so, would be a good thing for us."

They grinned. Then George poked Fred. "Come on, let's see if any of these kids can actually fly."

And they could. George and Fred sent Angelina, Alicia and Katie at them with the Quaffle, had them throw a Quaffle around among themselves, and finally there were a few short practice games, where the various houses made a team only from the new students and no Snitch was used, since the 'games' would last only fifteen minutes each. Harry circled above them all, observing. 

To Harry's delight, Ron stopped more balls than anyone, and no one would accuse his brothers or Harry of being partial when he would be elected Keeper. 

During one of the practice games, Ginny scored twice and managed to take the Quaffle from the opposing team, the Ravenclaws, several times as well. Harry was impressed. Of course she had played a lot with her brothers, but they'd always treated her as their little sister and rarely as someone who was actually good at the game. But she really could play, and she didn't shy away from the other players, like she had done in summer three years ago, when she had joined Harry, Ron, Fred and George once in the Weasley paddock. There were also a couple third-years who did well, a boy called Ard Rainbow and a girl, Nina Pike. 

Finally, everybody landed and the team gathered in a corner of the field. Fred and George would decide, of course, but they'd still want to hear the opinions of the rest of the team. 

"We say Ron as Keeper, and have Ginny and Ard start training," Fred stated. 

Harry nodded. "And Nina?" 

"It'll take a lot of time to have two extra Chasers in practice," Katie remarked. 

"Well, we will have to do without all of you next year," Harry pointed out. "Unless you plan to fail your N.E.W.T.s,"

"Not on your life," Katie said, jostling him. 

"She is good, and with another person training there'll be less comments about favouritism," Alicia suggested, with a pointed look in the direction of the Slytherin team. Of course, there'd be many more comments from them than from the Gryffindors who weren't picked for the team. Everyone third year and up who'd seen them play knew they were a good team and would know they chose competent players.

"They'll probably accuse us anyhow, but who cares. They'll find out Ron and Ginny can really play when we beat them. But yes, the Pike girl is pretty good, we'll include her," George decided. "Come on, Fred, let's see Madam Hooch and post the names."

Not much later all the teams had selected their new team members, and Madam Hooch posted the lists of names on the side of the grandstands. Harry sauntered over to take a look at the other teams, and, of course, to congratulate his friends. 

Not surprisingly, Draco was Captain of the Slytherin team. Good, Harry really hoped he'd be able to catch the Snitch while his rival was distracted watching the rest of the team. He spotted Ron and Ginny.

"Congrats, Ron, Ginny," he said, smiling.

"Thanks, Harry! You won't regret it," Ron promised.

"Yes, thank you. There'll be Weasleys on the team for a while yet," Ginny said, beaming.

"Of course, what do you expect when your brothers are Captain. Couldn't handle the responsibility, Potter?" 

Well, that hadn't taken him long, Harry thought. It was an effort to restrain himself, but he would not take the bait and get into a fight with Draco. He had to work with him now they were both Prefects, even if the other boy wasn't in the 'study group', and he didn't want to make it any more difficult than it had to be.

"Of course, favouritism is completely foreign to you," Ron shot back, having no such reasons to hold back. "Has your father bought new brooms for the rest of the team yet? The others are three years old by now, isn't that beneath you Slytherins?"

"At least he can buy me a decent broom," Draco said. "What do you have, still got that old Shooting Star?"

"You saw me, or were you too busy picking the least hopeless players for your team?" Ron asked hotly. He and Ginny both had flown a Nimbus 2000, not the newest model, but still quite nice. He'd owled Harry at the start of the summer to give him the news. A rather more affluent colleague and friend of his father's had bought new Firebolt II's for the entire family, and had offered the Weasleys their Nimbusses for a very good price.

Draco looked a little annoyed. Perhaps he hadn't paid as much attention to the players from the other houses as he should have, or he'd assumed Ron had borrowed the broom for the try-outs and was disappointed it was his. He recovered quickly enough, though. "Only a Weasley would be happy with a four year old relic."

"I don't need it to buy my way onto the team," Ron sneered.

"No, you just have to be part of the family," Draco replied.

"Come on, Ron, let's go inside, I'm thirsty after all this flying," Harry suggested. He didn't want a fight out here, and looked pointedly at Draco's Prefect badge to, hopefully, stop their rival from pursuing them. It seemed to work as Draco gave them a final sneer and turned, then stalked off.

"Damn that git," Ron cursed. "I bet he does have a Firebolt II, he just doesn't fly on it yet."

"So? We still have a better team, we'll beat them," Harry said. 

"We better," Ron growled. "Well, I could do with some cold pumpkin juice, too."

Harry nodded. "Want to come along?" he asked, noticing Ginny, who'd not got involved in their altercation but who was still standing nearby.

She almost started. It wasn't like he'd asked her something that strange, was it? Then she nodded and fell in beside them. 

Crossing the Quidditch pitch, they passed a group of Hufflepuffs. Several players of the Hufflepuff team were congratulating Megan Jones, the new Captain, but it was clear the group was more subdued than the other teams were. Of course, Cedric had been their Captain, before… Harry slowed down, unable to tear his eyes from the group, and sighed. 

Ron and Ginny were a few steps ahead before they noticed he'd fallen behind. They turned around and stopped. He stopped as well, in a reflex, still a few steps back and still looking at the Hufflepuff team.

"Hey, Harry, what's… oh," Ron followed his gaze.

Ginny had noticed, too. She walked back a few steps and reached out with one hand, touching his arm. "It was not your fault. It was You-Know-Who, I'm sure that if you could have done anything you would have stopped him." 

She sounded very sure of herself. Harry blinked. Was this shy little Ginny? She really had grown up a lot during summer. He smiled at her. 

"Thank you."

He resumed walking and they went inside the castle. 

On Sunday, Harry, Hermione and Ron started on the Parselmouth Project, as Hermione called it. The Headmaster had found a painting of a snake, fortunately not the Slytherin snake, as Harry wasn't sure it would agree to help, painting or no. This one was a pretty, medium-sized green and black snake in a grassy landscape. Professor McGonagall had taken them to a small room guarded by a centaur painting, and given them the password so they had a quiet place to work.

Harry spoke to the snake first. He still hadn't talked to snakes that often, and he wasn't sure what to say, but a simple 'hi' seemed a good start.

"Well, hello, no one has ever spoken to me before," the snake replied.

"Most of them can't," Harry said in Parseltongue. "But my friends want to learn, if that's possible."

"And?" the snake prompted.

"I need your help for that. I can only speak your language if I can see you."

"Weird," the snake hissed, with a small bob of its head that would probably have been a shrug if it'd had shoulders.

"I don't know why either, but that's the way it is. Just one thing –they have to learn because, 'cause there's a bad snake that's out to kill us. So they have to learn how to tell a snake to get lost. No offence, of course."

The snake tilted its head, quizzically. "A snake that would kill one who speaks our language? That's extremely rare. If you'd teach them to say hello you'd do better."

"Not with this snake," Harry said.

"Harry, what are you saying?" Hermione interrupted. "This is gonna be hopeless, it all sounds the same to me."

"No it doesn't," Ron put in. "There at the end was definitely more of a sj sound instead of a sh."

Harry looked at his friend, trying to determine if he was serious, but Ron hadn't sounded like he was being sarcastic. 

"Well, suit yourself, if you're sure," the snake said. "I'll help you. I won't take offence at anything you say while you're teaching them."

"Thank you," Harry replied.

"There, that was a much softer sw," Ron said. Hermione gave him a puzzled look.

"It'll help us," Harry told hem. "I'll yell 'back off' at it next, see if you can copy it."

His friends nodded. 

"Back off!" Harry called. "Sj'sshsss'j."

Despite their agreement, the snake looked a little taken aback. "Sorry," Harry hissed.

"Shjishsshj?" Ron tried.

Harry shook his head. 

"Sounds like gibberish," the snake said.

"Try again," Ron prompted.

"Sj'sshsss'j."

"Shjishsssj?" Ron hissed. 

Hermione shook her head in frustration.

"It's hard to hear, but I think you're getting closer," Harry said. 

This time, he asked the snake to say the words. It hissed angrily, and made Hermione jump, but Ron was so intent on listening that he didn't even flinch.

"Sjisshsssj," Ron said. 

Harry frowned. He hadn't quite understood, but he knew it was close.

"Sounds like you're speaking with your mouth full," the snake commented, and Harry translated.

"Ron looked at him in wide-eyed surprise. "You mean I'm actually getting it?"

"I think so," Harry replied.

Ron grinned, excited. 

"Try again, Ron," Harry prompted. 

Hermione gave a sigh of frustration. Harry knew she hated failing at anything, but he was also happy for Ron. It wasn't often he was the first to catch on to something they were learning together.

"Perhaps when Ron has it he can help you better than I can," he told her. "He can hear the actual sounds, I just hear the words in English."

Hermione nodded, and waited while Ron practiced a few more times, then decided to call it a day as they had other homework to do as well. Ron managed well enough that Harry heard his last attempts in English, but Hermione did not get that far. Only when Ron spelled it out for her did she come a little closer. 

They returned to the snake's room the next day, and the day after that, until Hermione also managed to copy the hissing sounds.


	5. Soul searching

**5.  Soul searching.**

Thursday evening, Professor Snape walked the halls. As usual, he had long finished grading the papers of that day. He never was one for socializing and he liked getting his work done immediately after class. It gave him time in the evening to work on some potions of his own, or, like today, to patrol the school for students out after curfew. Not that he found anyone today. It was quiet, even in the Astronomy Tower and the corridors near the kitchen.

Coming towards the Ravenclaw common room, he finally heard someone, but as he rounded the corner he found it was Harry, on his Prefect rounds.

"Evening, Professor," the boy greeted him.

"Harry," Professor Snape returned the greeting. It was the first time he caught Harry alone since school had started, and he hadn't been sure how to address the boy when they were alone, but Harry's name came naturally enough. "How are your classes going?"

"Fine, sir," Harry replied. "In spite of the reasons, the new lessons sure are interesting."

"And the previous lessons weren't?" Professor Snape asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Er, well, some were," Harry replied. "But History of Magic is much better now. Although I'm afraid Professor Binns is having a hard time with the changes. Defense is very interesting and I can't wait 'til we start Apparating."

"How is Professor Figg in the class?" Professor Snape inquired. 

Harry frowned, and Snape was pleased to see the boy thought before he spoke. 

"She's alright I suppose. She knows a lot, about curses and counter curses and everything, and she can explain it pretty well. But I don't know how she could have been an Auror. She just doesn't see what is going on around her, doesn't notice if anyone is passing notes under the table and on Tuesday Fred…," Harry broke off suddenly, then continued quickly. "She acts very stern, but she isn't very perceptive."

Professor Snape ignored Harry's slip. If a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher couldn't take care of herself, well, that was no skin off his back. As long as it didn't affect the students. "Can she handle the class/?" he asked. 

"She seems strict enough, and the lessons are interesting enough too keep most students paying attention, but she doesn't keep track of anything else that's going on. I hope there won't be any trouble when we start on the nastier curses."

Snape nodded slowly as he found his concerns echoed by Harry. The boy really had grown up. "We'll hope she can keep anyone from getting into any bigger trouble than Madam Pomfrey can get them out of," he smirked. "But let me or the Headmaster know if things get out of hand."

"Yes, sir," Harry promised. 

With another nod, Professor Snape bade Harry goodnight and they each went on their way. Snape was glad Harry understood he couldn't call him by his first name and show favouritism in front of the students, but they could talk more easily alone. It had been a mistake to judge Harry as just another Potter. The boy was more mature at fifteen than his father had ever been. Or Black. Professor Snape snorted –his opinion of either of them hadn't changed. Although perhaps Lupin had been a better choice as a Defense teacher than anyone else they'd had. Not that that was saying a lot. 

-0-

The next evening Professor Snape arrived early –as usual- for the 'study group'. The first one there, he checked the room for curses or listening spells, and found it clean. He had just finished and sat down, when Albus arrived with Black, in his Animagus form.

"It's all clear," he reported.

Black managed to harrumph, even as a dog, but to Snape's relief Albus ignored it. The Headmaster trusted him and frankly Snape didn't care about Black's opinion.

"Thank you, Severus," Albus replied. He took a seat as well, and Black sat down on the floor. Soon the students arrived, and the rest of the staff. Snape could have done without most of them.

Filius set the wards and Black transformed, then Albus started with a report on the previous week. To Professor Snape's surprise, Harry had managed to teach Weasley a word or two in Parseltongue. He looked at Weasley in amazement as the boy hissed something.

"It's 'back off', 'hello' and 'open'," Harry explained. "We though those made the most sense to start with."

"So anyone can learn?" Filius asked. 

Professor Snape noticed Granger turned red.

"We think so, but Hermione had much more difficulty than Ron," Harry replied.

"I'm only up to 'back off'," Granger said unhappily. "I can manage but it's very hard."

So the miracle girl couldn't do everything. Not that it'd hurt if she found a thing or two she wasn't good in, Professor Snape thought.

"That's good to know," Albus said. "You will teach us all those words, it could come in useful. See me after this session and we'll see where we fit it in."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

Then the Headmaster nodded to Minerva, who took over.

"Tonight we start the Animagus training. Please find a comfortable seat, as we start with some mental exercises."

Professor Snape felt himself stiffen. Of course he'd known the schedule, but he'd rather have done anything else. Even teaching the killing curse would be better, something he was far from comfortable with, however necessary.

"One of the greatest dangers of transforming is that once you have your animal shape, the animal's mind and instinct will try to take over. Once that happens, it is impossible to transform back without outside help. To prevent this, it is important that you know exactly who you are as a human. You must know and accept your inner self, as well as your own body," Minerva lectured. "Not everything you discover may be pleasant, and I believe this is one of the most important reasons so few people become Animagi, more so than the time it takes to learn."

She wasn't looking at him, but she might as well have been. He was going to hate this and he would never go through with this if Albus hadn't insisted. 

"Make yourself comfortable, close your eyes, and try to feel who you really are. Not who others think you are, not who you want to be, but who you are," Minerva continued. "Eventually you will learn to find something pleasant to focus on, something you really like about yourself, that can act as a beacon to bring you back to your human state. But you must know it all, not only the good parts."

Professor Snape didn't even like closing his eyes in a room full of people, even people he could mostly trust. Being a Death Eater and then a spy did that to you.

And for who he was, great, where to start? A Death Eater, fine, an ex Death Eater, but that didn't erase the things he'd done. He'd killed and tortured people for no other reason than they were Muggle born, or because they held information valuable to the Dark Lord. He'd brewed poisons and Veritaserum, all so he could gain power and status. Until he'd found out it didn't give him much of either, not really, not when he was a slave to the Dark Lord. Then he'd turned to Albus. So he was a traitor too. For a good reason, but a traitor nonetheless. 

He was bitter and hateful. Well, that was easy, there wasn't much difference between how others saw him and how he was inside. He snorted in disgust.

"At least try to relax," Minerva said from right next to him, and he jumped.

"Don't do that," he snapped.

"Do what?" she asked innocently.

"Sneak up on me," he replied, annoyed. She knew damn well what he meant, and she should have known better than to sneak up on him in the first place.

"If you don't feel comfortable with your eyes closed, then keep them open. It's only meant to help you concentrate," she suggested. 

Oh, great. So now everyone in the room knew he wasn't just bitter and hateful, but jumpy too. He looked around and caught Black smirking at him. It certainly didn't help that two of his least favorite people were teaching this class! 

Some of the others –students and Filius, as well- had glanced at him but they'd quickly looked away and closed their eyes again when he glared at them. Okay, bitter, hateful, jumpy and intimidating. He sneered as he realized the last was at least somewhat enjoyable. He wasn't sure if Minerva would count it as something positive, but it was a start. 

What else did he have? Potions. Potions was something he enjoyed, and it was definitely part of him. The trouble was that Potions made him think of Potions class, and Potions class meant teaching such dunderheads as Longbottom. 

How had he ever got himself into this mess? He wasn't even sure if he meant his entire position here or this despicable bout of soul searching. Both, perhaps.

He let his eyes roam around the room. Most of the students seemed uneasy, and Minerva moved among them giving various kinds of advice. She spoke quietly and didn't sneak up on them –had she done so to him on purpose or was he really that jumpy? Filius was smiling, obviously pleased with whatever he found, and to Snape's surprise Albus was frowning. Surely the Headmaster had little to be unhappy about? Black was walking around talking to the students as well, and it was an effort not to listen in on what he was saying. It certainly wouldn't help to get even more upset.

How had Black managed this part of the Animagus training? Or Potter, let alone that rat of a Pettigrew? Black and Potter had probably been arrogant enough to enjoy this, it seemed to be a Gryffindor trait to be much too happy with oneself. But Pettigrew had always been the runt of the pack, his grades nowhere near the level of the others, couldn't get a place on the Quidditch team even though Snape knew he'd tried out several times, and finally he'd joined Voldemort. How had Pettigrew ever managed to become an Animagus with all that working against him? Well, if Pettigrew could do it, so could he, Professor Snape decided. There, that was something else, he could be quite determined. Oh, fine, stubborn if you insist. He sighed.

Finally, Minerva called everyone's attention again. 

"Please take any time you can to practice during the week," she told them. "If you have any difficulties, you can always come to me."

Yeah, as if. It was bad enough he had to deal with her in here, he wouldn't ever seek her out. 

-0-

Hermione had an easier time, but she certainly hadn't liked everything she'd found out about herself. She'd realized she was insecure, which was silly, really, considering her usual grades. A perfectionist, too, and a bookworm, though she didn't consider either of those to be a bad thing. 

And then there was her hair. It resisted every attempt to tame it, whether by spell or Muggle hair spray. At least her teeth were better since that time Draco had cursed her. All in all she certainly wasn't unhappy, but she wasn't all satisfied either. It worried her a little, especially when she realised it was her silly insecurity acting up again. Of course she could learn.

She was still mulling it over when she left the classroom with Harry and Ron. To her surprise, Crookshanks was waiting for her in the corridor. The cat meowed and rubbed her ankles.

"Hey Crookshanks, what are you doing here, boy?" she asked the cat, and she bent over meaning to pick him up. The cat, however, slipped out of her hands and scratched at the door of the adjacent classroom. 

"Come on silly, we're going back to the common room," Hermione said as she made to follow Harry and Ron. 

The cat meowed, sounding annoyed, then walked off down the hall, looking at her after a few steps. 

Harry stopped and retraced his steps, Ron trailing him. They looked at her. "Are you coming, 'mione?"

"Yeah, I guess," Hermione said. "It's just Crookshanks is acting a little weird again."

Harry looked alarmed. "He wouldn't have found another rat, you think?" 

Hermione stared at him. "He can't have. The wards detect rats now, remember the Headmaster told us?"

Dumbledore had ensured her last year when she had been worried about Pettigrew. Unfortunately the wards couldn't be set to detect Animagi in general so Rita Skeeter had still been able to sneak in. Well, she'd taken care of that al right. 

Harry nodded. "Perhaps we should still see what he wants," he suggested.

Hermione wasn't that sure, likely Crooks was just being silly. On the other hand, he had known about Pettigrew, or at least he'd known something wasn't right with the rat. "Okay," she said. "We'll look."

Crookshanks took off before she finished speaking.

"I think he understood," Ron said. 

It sure had looked that way, Hermione had to admit. The three of them followed until they came to a corridor near the Astronomy Tower. There, Crookshanks looked back once more before rounding the corner. They followed.

The only occupant of the corridor was Draco, strolling the hall and looking at them with contempt. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Harry was the first to reply. "What does it matter? It's not curfew yet."

"What are you doing here? It's not your shift," Hermione inquired. 

"If you must know, I traded with Patsy," Draco drawled. "Which means you –or at least one of you- better be back in the common room before it is curfew."

Prefects were technically allowed out of the common room after curfew, even if they weren't on duty, but they weren't supposed to abuse the privilege. And Ron, of course, wasn't a Prefect. 

"Oh, don't worry, we will," Hermione said, refusing to take the bait and cutting off Ron before he could. Professor McGonagall had asked them to do their best to work with Draco, and so she would. If he didn't go too far. 

Crookshanks was still milling around and now that they were making to leave, the cat hissed at Draco.

"Granger, take that ball of fluff away before I curse it," Draco told her. 

Glaring at him –touching Crookshanks would definitely set her off- she reached for the cat. 

"Come, Crookshanks, we'll look for better company elsewhere."

The cat still had his hackles raised, but this time he let her pick him up. 

"Well, can't say he has a bad taste," Harry said as they walked back.

"I bet Draco was trying to spy on the Study Group," Ron said.

"Draco is a Prefect, and allowed in the corridors. Besides, he couldn't possibly break through the wards Professor Flitwick set," Hermione argued.

"That's true, but as a Prefect, he has access to almost any place in the school. I'm sure he's a Death Eater, or going to be," Ron replied.

"Professor Snape wouldn't make him Prefect if he didn't trust him," Hermione said.

"And we trust Professor Snape since when?" Ron asked sceptically.

"Since this summer," Harry replied quietly. "I'm absolutely sure he isn't a Death Eater anymore. But I don't trust Draco. Professor Snape could be wrong or perhaps he has other reasons."

"Reasons to make a Death Eater a Prefect?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "Not like he had a lot of choice this year. I don't know if any of the others in our year are that much better, rumor has it they're all from Death Eater families. Plus Crabbe and Goyle are plain stupid."

"We'll keep an eye on him, perhaps Crookshanks was really trying to tell us something. I wish I knew what," Hermione sighed. 

"Filch says anyone can understand a cat, as long as they can be bothered to listen," Harry said with a frown.

"Filch?" Ron squeaked. "You spoke to Filch too? Don't tell me that he's all nice and friendly to you as well."

"Not really nice and friendly," Harry said, "But I don't think he's all that bad. It must be hard to be a Squib in a school full of witches and wizards."

Ron groaned, and Hermione couldn't help but feel sceptical as well, but she didn't question Harry's comment. Instead, she went back to the subject at hand. "He told you how he talks to Mrs Norris?" 

"He just said that most people didn't know how to listen, or something. You'll have to ask him."

Hermione hesitated. She always wanted to learn, but she didn't relish the idea of approaching Filch. Although he didn't yell at her as often as at her friends, who were more likely to track mud through the halls after their Quidditch practice, she would do her best to avoid him. "I'll try to look it up in the library first," she decided.

Harry and Ron laughed at that, but she didn't mind, she was used to that reaction whenever she mentioned the library. They had reached the portrait hole and, giving the password to the Fat Lady, they entered the common room. Hermione put Crookshanks down and they rejoined their housemates.


	6. New spells

**7.  New spells.**

The weekend passed quickly and the next week started off on a good note. Harry really did enjoy the various new lessons, more so even than the previous years, as History of Magic was actually interesting now, and of course Potions was much better too. But Tuesday's Charms class beat them all when Professor Flitwick announced they would go to Hogsmeade to start Apparating. Their Care of Magical Creatures class was cancelled so they'd have the entire afternoon.

Professor Flitwick took them to the Three Broomsticks, which was almost empty at this time of the day. Madam Rosmerta had been expecting them, and gave them a welcome nod.

"Now you may think you know the place," Professor Flitwick told them. "But the better you know the place, the easier it will be to Apparate."

Harry listened intently, although the small Charms professor had already covered this in class last week. Unless you were really experienced, you had to know either the place you were going to, or the place you were coming from, in every detail. The easiest was if you knew both. And of course it was harder when the distance was longer. Well, that wouldn't be a problem yet, for they would only try to Apparate across the room.

Madam Rosmerta gracefully allowed them to crawl all over the room, to poke around in and around the tables and the bar, to check out all the chairs and to study the scratches and stains on the tables. After an hour, Harry felt he knew the place like his own dorm room, or better –he'd never paid this close attention to the minute cracks in the furniture or the stains on the floor.

Finally, Professor Flitwick called them together. "The spell used it 'Apparacio'. It doesn't have to be said aloud, but we will when we are practicing," he recapped. "You hold your wand and you think of where you want to be, then you say the spell. It seems exceedingly simple, but it is much harder than it sounds. First picture yourself where you are, look at yourself and your surroundings, be absolutely aware of yourself at that place. Then, think of yourself standing at the other side of the room, concentrate on being there as you say the spell. It is important you have a very clear picture of yourself in the new location, at least at first." 

At this, Professor Flitwick looked at Harry and his friends. Yes, the Animagus exercises would help!

"Miss Granger, if you would go first?" their Professor requested.

Hermione nodded, looking slightly nervous but also eager.

Harry gave her an encouraging nod as she looked intensely at the opposite side of the room, then closed her eyes and frowned. It seemed to Harry she took a long time but it couldn't have been more than moments before she spoke.

"Apparacio!"

An odd double pop sounded, as Hermione Disapparated from where she was standing and instantly Apparated on the other end of the room. Harry held his breath as he watched her looking a little dazed. Then, to his relief, she smiled broadly.

"I did it, it worked!"

"Very good," Professor Flitwick congratulated her. "No dizziness?"

"No –well, just for a second but it's already gone," she replied.

"Excellent! Who wants to go next?"

Harry hesitated. He was nervous, but he also wanted to try it out. When no one beat him to it, he raised his hand. "I'll try."

Professor Flitwick nodded, obviously pleased. 

Harry took another look around, taking in exactly where he was, standing next to the table with 'I lov' carved into it –likely Madam Rosmerta had caught the culprit before he or she finished the entire word, or the subject of his or her infatuation. The chair in front of him had a slight wobble, and the tiles underneath his feet were slightly uneven. Then he pictured himself on the opposite side of the room, next to the bar. He could almost see the stained surface with rings overlapping rings, despite the beer mats stacked next to the dog-eared menu. Concentrating hard, he held his wand and when he was absolutely sure of where he wanted to be he spoke. "Apparacio."

He didn't hear the pop now that he was the one Apparating, but from one moment to the next he was looking at his friends from the other side of the room. It was a little disorienting, and he reached out for a barstool to steady himself, but the moment of vertigo passed almost immediately. Blinking, he let go of the barstool and walked back to his friends.

"I did it," he grinned, relief, pride and excitement rushing through him. 

Professor Flitwick smiled happily as he congratulated him. 

Ron was next. It seemed to Harry he took a lot longer, and for a moment Harry was afraid his friend wouldn't be successful at his first try, but then he, too, Apparated to the other end of the room with the double pop. 

The others took even longer, and Lavender and Dean did not dare to try the spell on their first attempt. Professor Flitwick talked them through some of the same things they'd done in the 'Study Group', and by the end of the afternoon everyone but Neville had managed to Apparate across the room. 

Neville hadn't waited for Professor Flitwick to tell him he couldn't attempt to Apparate –he had decided at the very first lesson that he preferred to stick to Floo powder and other forms of transport. 

Harry felt bad for him, and a little worried as well. At any other time, not being able to Apparate would only be an inconvenience, but now Voldemort had returned it could be very dangerous. And Neville wasn't good on a broomstick either. If Neville were ever chased by Death Eaters, Harry was afraid his chances wouldn't be good at all. But he couldn't let Neville's problems spoil his mood, not this afternoon. Elated, they walked back to Hogwarts in time for dinner.

Thursday was Hermione's birthday. Harry and Ron had been waiting in the common room and jumped her as she came down the stairs. 

"Happy birthday, Hermione," Harry said as he gave her a hug.

"Happy birthday, 'mione," Ron wished her, too. Harry noticed his friend turned almost as red as his hair as he hugged her. Then they gave her her presents. 

Ron had gotten her a book about Transfiguring animals, and Harry gave her an American Eagle feather quill. Eagle feathers were rare, but not quite as rare as the Muggles believed. The eagles, many of them used by the wizards and witches among the American Indian population as owls were in Europe, made sure they dropped most of their feathers where wizards would find them rather than Muggles. Still, it had been the only one they'd had at the stationary store a few weeks ago, and Harry was glad he'd spotted it.

Hermione thanked them both for their gifts and they went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. There, she received owls with cards from her parents, her aunt, her older nephew and her grandparents. She read them all to Harry and Ron, and they were almost late for their History of Magic class. 

They had a great time, but still something was bothering Harry. It wasn't until their second class of the day, Divination, when he had time to think, that he realised he was jealous of her family. They might be Muggles, but they'd all written to her. He had none. He didn't like being jealous, she'd never rubbed it in and if her family hadn't been all Muggle she'd certainly have invited him over during summer. Ron certainly did, and his family had always been really nice to him. No, he didn't like his feelings of envy, and now that he was aware of them he tried to push them away. He was happy to find that at lunch time he could honestly enjoy listening to Hermione as she told them about her favorite nephew.

Friday they had Care of Magical Creatures after their Transfiguration class, to make up for the missed lesson on Tuesday. Hagrid had placed some Bowtruckles in a number of trees near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, which –strangely enough, knowing Hagrid's usual choice of creatures- weren't too dangerous. They had fun distracting the creatures so they could take some wood off the trees, using the most outrageous spells they could think of. 

That evening they went to the Study Group again. Harry hadn't had much time to practice his Animagus exercises, what with their regular homework, the ongoing Parselmouth project, and of course Quidditch practice. They were working hard to give Ron as much practice with the team as possible, the first game against Ravenclaw was on October 5th, which was only two weeks away. 

He needn't have worried. Professor McGonagall only addressed them briefly, asking if there were any problems and repeating her offer to help when necessary. After that, Professor Snape took over. 

Professor McGonagall looked especially displeased as she looked at the Potions Professor, but Harry caught Professor Snape scowling for a moment as well, before his face changed to an expressionless calm. 

Putting a box on the table which contained a number of spiders, Professor Snape started. "Today we start on the Killing Curse. I do not have to tell you you will not practice this outside this room, even on spiders or mice. The Aurors," he sneered as he spoke, "would care little for your reasons. Even cast on an animal the spell will land you in Azkaban."

Several of the students shuddered, and Taniya from Hufflepuff raised her hand. "What if anyone finds out we practice here?"

Professor Snape didn't even blink. "Here the only ones risking Azkaban are we, as your Professors. You as students are not responsible for the lessons taught."

Harry felt a shiver go through him. How could Professor Snape be so calm about Azkaban? Or any of the other Professors, for that matter. Professor McGonagall looked grim, but no one looked seriously worried. 

"Now that that's out of the way, let's not waste any more time," Professor Snape continued as he took one of the spiders out of the box. It didn't run off, likely drugged with a spell or potion. "You hold your wand loosely in your hand, make sure you do not tense up. Concentrate as you point at your victim and speak clearly. Avada Kedavra."

A small beam of green light shot out from his wand and the spider dropped dead.

"To prevent accidents, you will all practice facing the outer wall. Never practice on a spider, mice or anything when anyone is standing behind it," Professor Snape instructed. "Come get your spider and get started."

It could hardly be called a mad rush to the desk –everyone was clearly reluctant. Harry didn't like the Killing Curse either, but he'd known since last spring that he would almost certainly face Voldemort again, and he'd better know what to do when it came to that. If Professor Snape and the others could be so calm about teaching it, then he could be calm about learning. He stepped forward and picked out a spider. Of course, Ron and Hermione followed suit, and behind them the other students.

They put a desk against the back wall, then put their spiders down. The spiders, all sluggish, crawled slowly over the table top. 

Hermione was the first to try the spell. She looked confident as she copied Professor Snape's example exactly. 

"Avada Kedavra."

The flash of green light was substantially smaller than Professor Snape's had been, but large enough to kill the spider. 

To Harry's surprise, Ron wasn't far behind. His spider dropped dead at his first try, too. Harry threw him a questioning glance and Ron shrugged. Of course, his friend had never been fond of spiders, and after their second year he liked them even less. Intent was always important in doing any spell.

Harry still stared at his spider. He couldn't say he really liked spiders, but he didn't usually go out of his way to kill any, either. If he couldn't kill a spider, how could he kill a human being if it came to that?

"When there really is no other way, you will," Professor Dumbledore said behind him. Harry started, could the Headmaster really read minds? No, he had spoken aloud without realising it. He recalled his earlier thoughts. It was better to be prepared than to be killed. 

"Avada Kedavra." 

His spider dropped dead.

With more or less hesitation, the others in their group also cast the spell. Not everyone managed to kill their spider on their first try, but Harry had little time to look as Professor Snape came over and handed him a mouse to try next. 

The mouse was a little harder, but they all got it on their first try as well, even Ron, who didn't hate mice like he hated spiders. 

"I just imagine it's a rat," he explained grimly.

The lesson ended and Harry left with his friends. Once again Crookshanks was roaming the hall and meowed as they left the classroom. 

Following the cat, Crookshanks led them to the Slytherin dorms. 

"Draco again, I bet," Ron said. 

"It could be almost any Slytherin, I'm sure many of them would like to know what we are doing. But probably Draco," Harry agreed.

The cat still meowed, but none of them understood what he was trying to say, and they couldn't go into the Slytherin common room. Hermione had borrowed several books on cat behaviour from the library, but she hadn't found anything useful so far.


	7. Potions problems

**7. Potions problems.**

The Potions lessons had been uneventful so far, especially compared to last year's. Snape was not much friendlier when the entire class –and, of course, the Slytherins- were present, but he was not getting on Harry's case anymore either. He still made plenty of snide remarks, especially to the other Gryffindors, but he didn't take as many points off. Harry didn't complain. 

Today, they were making a potion that would protect against mind-control curses. Harry was stirring it, checking it for color and consistency, when he heard a squeak from across the room. 

"Oh, shit!" 

Recognizing Neville's voice, Harry ducked. Moments later, there was a large BOOM and drops of potion rained down on him. With dismay he saw several large drops fall into his cauldron, and his smooth potion started to form little bubbles. 

"LONGBOTTOM!" Snape yelled. 

Harry looked up to see the Potions Master loom over Neville, both splattered with more than a few drops of the liquid. So, for that matter, were the students who had been unfortunate enough to work closer to Neville. 

"What did you put in that potion?" Snape asked darkly.

Neville looked at his feet and stammered, "Yellow ochre, sir."

"And where, exactly, does it say 'yellow ochre' on the list of ingredients I gave you?" Snape asked menacingly.

Neville shuffled his feet. "Nowhere, sir," he admitted.

Snape sighed. "Then please enlighten me why you took it upon yourself to add it." 

"Well, I couldn't get my potion…," Neville started, "It was supposed to be green, and eh, mine, well, it was blue and I thought I could at least make it look…"   

"Let me get this straight, you added a random ingredient to a potion as if it were a common _food coloring_?" Snape asked incredulously. 

"Well, not quite random," Neville stuttered. "After all, blue and yellow does make…" He stopped. "I guess I shouldn't have."

Across the room, the Slytherins were doubled up in laughter, while the Gryffindors were looking on with silent anticipation. 

Snape sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. "No, you should not have," he said in a tired voice. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, and detention tonight during which you will clean the entire classroom." 

"Yes sir," Neville squeaked, looking miserable. Harry felt somewhat sorry for him, but he also shared their Potions Master's disbelief at Neville's stupidity. 

Snape was now checking Dean's cauldron, which had been closest to Neville's and was bubbling angrily. "We will try to save these at least," he stated. "Harry, get the cat tail fluff from the stores."

Harry blinked in surprise. Even the Slytherins weren't normally allowed in the store room, and Snape had not called him by his first name in front of the class, either. But he recovered immediately. "Yes, Professor," he nodded, quickly walking through Snape's office to the store room. 

It was locked, but the password hadn't been changed since summer. He returned with the cat tail fluff, closing the store room door behind him. 

"Good," Snape said as he entered. "Pass out a small amount to everyone. Everyone, put some in your cauldrons, stir it slowly, and it will absorb the ochre. You can then skim it off the top."

Harry did as requested, noticing and ignoring the glare Draco and some of the other Slytherins gave him when he handed them the fluff. Then he set to work on his own potion, and managed to fix it so it stopped bubbling.

At the end of class, he rinsed out his cauldron and wiped his desk. 

"Potter, I would like to speak with you for a moment," Snape told him as he made to leave with Ron and Hermione.

Harry nodded. Ron and Hermione hung back. "Go, I'll catch up," he said. He wished he had been able to tell them more about his summer, his friends still looked doubtful whenever he insisted the time he spent with Snape had turned out okay in the end.

He followed Snape into his office. Snape sat down behind his desk and sighed. 

"Harry, I have a request for you," he said, seriously. "I will not require you to take it on, as it is not likely to be an easy or pleasant task."

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"I want you to pair off with Longbottom, to keep an eye on him during class, and to try and make sure he doesn't blow up anything else," Snape said.

"Me?" Harry asked, blinking. He hadn't expected this.

"Yes," Snape replied. "Look, there are twenty of you, I can't keep an eye on him all the time. I had hoped that he would eventually learn enough to at least stop blowing up his brews, but that mistake he made today is something I would not expect from anyone beyond first year. I believe after this summer you have a pretty good idea of what things are likely to be particularly volatile and you could stop at least some of these incidents."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied. "But Hermione is still better than me."

"Maybe," Snape allowed. "But I would rather have you do it. No matter how futile it may seem, I must still attempt to teach Longbottom what little he can absorb. He is not going to be able to do even that if someone brews all his potions for him. Now I'm sorry, I know Miss Granger is your friend, but she is a busybody and I'm afraid she won't be able to keep herself from interfering too much. I only want you to intervene when you have reason to believe his screw-ups are likely to cause an explosion or other serious damage."

Harry frowned, still unsure. 

"I won't hold it against you if you don't catch everything –I hadn't foreseen today's display of stupidity myself. But it should at least limit the number of times I have to spent my evening watching Longbottom scrub the classroom ceiling," Snape added.

"Okay, I will do it," Harry made up his mind. 

"Thank you," Snape replied sincerely. "See you in class tomorrow, then."

"See you tomorrow, Professor," Harry said, and quickly went after his friends. 

-0-

The next day, Harry set up his cauldron next to Neville's. He had told Neville what Snape had asked him. Neville had been apologetic to the extreme, saying he was sorry to put Harry through so much trouble, but Harry could easily hear that he was also extremely relieved that Snape would not be watching him quite as closely anymore. 

Some of the others in the class glanced at them as they started to prepare their potion to settle an upset stomach. Harry had also told Ron and Hermione, who couldn't understand that he had agreed, but he had not told it to anyone else. Only about halfway through, Draco noticed Harry kept glancing at Neville's potion and drew his conclusions. No matter how hard Harry tried to work together when they had Prefect duty, the Slytherin still needled Harry any chance he got.

"Babysitting the clumsy oaf, Potter?" he asked. 

Harry glanced over to Draco and his potion. "At least I can brew my potion and still keep an eye on his. You may want to learn how to brew your own correctly before you make any snide remarks," he commented.

"There's nothing wrong with my potion," Draco said defensively. 

Harry shrugged. "I'm not drinking it." 

He turned back to his own potion, tempering the fire a little. Of course he wasn't about to drink Neville's potion, either, but it didn't look like it was going to do anything but congeal. He let his classmate muddle on, watching only that he wouldn't do any other hare-brained things trying to save it. But even Neville wasn't stupid enough to make the same mistake two days in a row. He'd have a hell of a time scrubbing his cauldron clean, but that wasn't Harry's problem.

A few moments later, Harry saw Snape walk over to Draco. "I told you to mix the tapeworm paste with the toad bile before adding it to your potion."

"I forgot, but it's both in there, and I've stirred well," Draco replied.

Snape shook his head. "That isn't good enough, you will have to start over," he said. "If you can tell me why before the end of the period, I won't take any points off."

Harry tried not to grin as he saw Draco leaf furiously through his notes. Harry knew it wouldn't be in there; the only time Snape had mentioned it in their class had been last year during a lecture on poisons and antidotes. Apparently Draco had not been paying attention in that class. Truth to tell, Harry had forgotten the details as well, but he had recalled it when he used the mixture last month. 

"Hey, Gryffindor, care to tell me why?" Draco hissed to Harry. 

"Why should I?" Harry asked. "You don't usually help me."

"I can't find it in my notes," Draco whispered urgently.

Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry, I already have two cauldrons to watch, I really can't help you right now." Which wasn't exactly true, his own cauldron was simmering and Neville was leafing through his notes trying to find something or other. Harry could easily have helped Draco and perhaps checked on a couple other cauldrons as well. But he wasn't allowed to help Neville, apart from preventing disasters, and he, at least, would try to treat everyone the same. 

Draco scowled, but he didn't push, trying with Crabbe and Goyle instead, then the other Slytherins. 

At the end of the period, Snape came over again. 

"Did you find the reason why you had to mix the two before adding them to the potion?" he asked. 

Draco let out an exasperated sigh. "I tried, but no one wanted to tell me!" he said, accusingly.

Snape frowned. "I'm not deaf, Malfoy. Potter was the only one who didn't _want_ to tell you, the others didn't know any more than you did. Ten points from Slytherin, five for you and five for your friends who apparently haven't been listening to my lectures either."

Draco looked hurt. "I bet Potter didn't know either, that's why he pretended to be busy," he said. 

Harry sighed. Snape might be more fair than before, but if any of the Gryffindors had made a comment like that, Snape would have taken another ten points off right away. But he knew better than to point that out, not in front of the entire class. 

"The bile must have time to activate the enzymes in the tapeworm paste, so those can work to counteract the poisonous effects of the cashew shells," he said. He wasn't gonna let that go completely unchallenged!

Snape looked around at him, and nodded curtly. "That is it," he said. He turned back to Draco and added, "Try to remember it this time."

No points for Gryffindor, but Harry hadn't expected that. Not yet, and not with all of them there. He was still quite satisfied when he left the classroom. Maybe some day.

-0-

Draco was seething. Not only had Potter one-upped him in Potions –one of his best subjects- but Professor Snape had dared to take points from Slytherin and leave Gryffindor alone! Potter hadn't even received a snide remark for being just as big a Know-It-All as that Mudblood Granger. Professor Snape used to hate Potter just as much as he did, but obviously something had happened over summer. He'd even called him Harry in Tuesday's lesson! And sent him into the store room, while just last year Potter had stolen the Gillyweed to win that stupid task of the Triwizard Tournament.

Of course, Draco knew by now that Potter had spent several weeks of the summer vacation at Hogwarts. He didn't know all the details, as several versions of the story went around. Some said Potter had tried to kill his uncle, or his cousin, others said his uncle had tried to kill Potter, yet others thought it had been a Death Eater attack, or the Dark Lord himself. Draco knew it wasn't either of the last two, but he wasn't sure what else to believe. It didn't really matter. Either way, Potter had ended up at Hogwarts with Professor Snape, and somehow, Professor Snape no longer hated him. 

Perhaps it had always been a ruse, just a cover for his work as a spy. Perhaps Professor Snape never really cared for his own Slytherins, and had never really hated those disgusting Gryffindors. Draco conveniently forgot that Professor Snape was just as harsh to any other Gryffindors as he had ever been. No, perhaps his professor supported those Gryffindors and Mudbloods, something no respectable Death Eater would ever do. Well, Snape certainly wasn't a respectable Death Eater! He was a traitor and a spy. 

Draco had been shocked when his father had told him, hadn't wanted to believe at first. Not that he'd said so, of course. No one said they didn't believe his father, not to his face. But he'd had to believe when his father had told him in more detail about the trap they'd set.

Even then, Draco hadn't immediately hated his Head of House. Professor Snape had always taken good care of him and the other Slytherins. He was strict, more so within their house than the others would think, he didn't tolerate any rule breaking when those rules were his own. But he was also fair, as long as it was about in-house business. He was a good teacher and was always willing to listen to those of his own house if there were any problems. It had been hard to discount all that and to hate his professor. Then. Now, he wondered if it'd all been a lie. Did his professor really care about the Slytherins at all? 

He knew something funny was going on with the Friday night 'Study Group' as well. Even if they were learning to work the wards, there was no reason to ward the room as heavily as it was. Draco had tried several listening spells and devices, and nothing had worked. And of course it irked him there were only three Slytherins included. It made it clear Professor Snape did not trust the members of his own house, and also that there was something more going on than learning about the wards.

Potter was involved as well, of course, and Draco thought there was something funny about the big, black dog Professor Flitwick suddenly had. Why would he take his dog to a study group? It didn't bode well that Professor Snape was involved with this group, was he telling them all he knew about the Death Eaters and Voldemort?

The potions incident had simply been the last drop. Draco went to his room, took out some parchment and a quill and started to write a letter to his father. He told his father everything he had learned and suspected, and included every detail about Professor Snape, including a thing or two he hadn't previously wanted to tell.


	8. Quidditch and Hogsmeade weekend

First of all, sorry for not updating for so long! I haven't abandoned this story, but I was busy both with work and the new book! This of course isn't anywhere near canon anymore, but I will continue it 'cause I still think it's a cool story J I hope I'll still have readers who like it as well. I'll probably start a new story soon, got a start on a 6th year, OOP canon story in the works. Well, enough chatter, on with the story itself!

**8.  Quidditch and Hogsmeade weekend.**

On Saturday Harry and Ron woke early, even though the game against Ravenclaw wouldn't start until after lunch. They tried to do some homework, but they couldn't concentrate. They ended up talking Quidditch all morning, driving Hermione off the wall, until she gave up and left for the library. After lunch, of course, she came with them to the field to watch, Harry knew she would not miss their game. 

They flew around and threw the Quaffle around to warm up, and soon Madam Hooch called them down for the start of the match. 

Harry eyed Cho, the Ravenclaw Seeker, and they greeted each other with a brief nod. Unless the Snitch would be extremely hard to find, it would be the catching of the Snitch which won the game. Harry liked Cho well enough, but he also knew their own team was better than hers, and he would do his best to win. Neither Ravenclaw nor Hufflepuff were as big a challenge as the Slytherin team was. Still, it wouldn't do to underestimate them. 

Fred was the Captain this game, and he shook hands with Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Captain. After the two teams greeted each other, Madam Hooch released the Bludgers and the Snitch, then blew her whistle as she threw the Quaffle into the air.

Harry pushed off and shot upward, already scanning the field for the Snitch. Cho, on her older broomstick, was well behind him. 

Lee Jordan was commentating as usual, and he called out the names of the Chasers on the ball. Harry paid only a little attention, leaving the Chasers to do their job and trusting Fred and George's skill to keep the Bludgers away from him. People often though the Seeker was the only truly important position on the Quidditch field, but a Seeker who constantly had to dodge the Bludgers would have little chance to catch the Snitch.

He did notice the first attack of the Ravenclaw Chasers, and cheered as Ron caught the Quaffle, immediately passing it off to Katie. Soon after, Angelina scored the first goal for Gryffindor.

Harry made sure he stayed close to Cho. With her slower broom, if they were close when the Snitch appeared, he could definitely win. If they were further apart, there was a chance she'd be lucky and spot the Snitch nearby, too far for even his Firebolt to catch up.

Fred and George kept the Bludgers constantly targeted on the Ravenclaw Chasers, who had a hard time with the twins, and Ron did his best to do well in his first game, so Katie, Alicia and Angelina scored three more times before Ravenclaw got their first goal. 

Two more goals for Gryffindor followed before the Ravenclaws even came close to the Gryffindor goal, then Ron stopped two attacks. Anyone who honestly believed he'd got his position because of favouritism should now know better. Finally, when the score was 90-10, Ravenclaw scored again, but Angelina immediately retaliated and they led by 100-20. 

Harry still hadn't spotted the Snitch, even though he'd scanned the entire field several times. Which wasn't quite unusual, the tiny golden ball was meant to be elusive. But the sun was shining, and Harry hoped to catch a glint. 

Cho scanned the air on the opposite side from wherever he was, knowing the same thing he did about the speed her broom was capable of, and hoping for luck to run her way. She'd tried to shake him off earlier on in the game, but when he'd doggedly stayed on her tail she'd given up. 

Suddenly Harry saw something blink near the bottom of the stands. It was far enough on the other side of the field that he didn't need to fake his interest, instead he relied on his Firebolt's speed to get there first. He kicked his broom into gear and sped off, leaving Cho behind. An expectant roar came from the Gryffindor stands.

"Harry has seen something!" Lee commented, but Harry barely heard him. He focussed on the exact place where he'd seen the glint, scanning the immediate surroundings, and then he saw it, almost on the ground.

He banked left, reached down and felt the soft feathers of the tiny ball as it wriggled in his hand. Cheering, he pulled up, holding the Snitch aloft. 

The twins flew over, slapping him on the back, but Harry flew on to the goal posts to congratulate Ron on his performance. Then they landed and were instantly rushed by their housemates.

-0-

The next weekend was Hogsmeade weekend. Harry hadn't been sure at first that they'd still be allowed to go, now that Voldemort had returned. But to his relief the announcement said nothing, and the only real precaution was that Professor McGonagall told Hermione, him and the other Prefects to keep their eyes open and shoot a stream of sparks into the air at any sign of trouble. She wasn't expecting any, or they wouldn't be allowed to go at all.

They didn't waste time, leaving immediately after breakfast. As did almost everyone, truth to tell. The walk to Hogsmeade was pleasant, even though it was October it was sunny and dry. Ron wanted to go to Zonko's first, but Harry disagreed, suggesting they'd do their shopping later so they wouldn't have to carry their purchases all day long. 

Swayed by his argument, Ron relented and they went to Honeydukes' only, then found a nice place to sit, not too far from the Shrieking Shack. They munched their sweets, talked, and enjoyed the nice fall weather.

Eventually they got up and went into the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer. Madam Rosmerta greeted them by name. They'd returned twice to practice Apparating since that first afternoon, Apparating in from the street and back again, but of course on those occasions they didn't have time to stay for a drink. Professor Flitwick took them straight back to Hogwarts, reminding them that it was still a class and they weren't allowed to eat or drink during the lessons. It was too important to concentrate on the spell. But today they were free to do as they liked. They all ordered Butterbeer and Hermione, who had eaten less sweets than he and Ron had, ordered a ham sandwich as well. Harry and Ron were full with chocolate, Every Flavour Beans and Jelly Slugs.

After lunch, such as it was, they went shopping. They didn't need any school supplies yet, so early in the year, but Hermione wanted browse the book shop and after that they finally went to Zonko's. 

It was crowded. At first Harry thought it was because more students had had the same plan, to go here last of all. Then he saw Fred and George in the middle of a small crowd near the counter. 

Harry couldn't make out what they were doing, but he heard a small pop and then lots of laughter. Ron groaned. Harry knew he liked pranks as much as the next person but he was also exasperated by his brothers. He'd been on the butt end of many of their jokes. He started to check out the merchandise on the far shelf, and Harry joined him. Throwing an occasional look over his shoulder –he was curious- he checked out the items. As always there were dozens of pranks and joke items, but many were mentioned on Filch's list of forbidden objects. Not that he or Ron knew the entire list. Only Fred and George claimed they did, and Harry wouldn't be surprised if that were true. 

Ron pointedly ignored his brothers as he picked out several new items, and Harry didn't argue. He'd find out later what the twins were up to. And he didn't want to get them into trouble either, or any more trouble than they'd get themselves into, so perhaps it was better not to watch them too closely.

Hermione just shook her head at their enthusiasm for each new gag item. Fred and George were always trying to talk her into helping them develop their pranks, but Harry had long accepted she wasn't interested in that kind of thing, just like she'd accepted that they were.

They paid for their purchases and left, meaning to go back to Hogwarts for dinner. However, they'd barely turned towards the castle when Hermione spotted Crookshanks. They followed the cat without hesitation, although Ron groaned when they noticed he led them all the way back through the village, past Dervish & Banges on the far side of the town. 

Nearly there, Harry was the first to spot Draco, standing among some trees where the road led out of the town and into the mountains. With him was a tall man. For a moment Harry thought it was Mr Malfoy, then he realised the man had dark hair. Who would Draco meet here, on the outskirts of town? Not that there was a school rule against meeting anyone, but the very fact that this was Draco and the way Crookshanks behaved made him think something was amiss. He cautioned the others and they stayed back between the last houses of the village.

"Who's that?" Ron asked. 

"I don't know," Harry said. "I bet it's a Death Eater though."

"I wish we could see his face," Hermione remarked. The man had turned away from them and had the collar of his cloak pulled up. Then he walked off and Disapparated. "Should we tell someone?"

"Tell them what? That Draco met someone in Hogsmeade? There's no rule against that, we don't even know who it was," Ron complained.

"Tall, dark hair, that's not much to go on," Harry had to agree.

Crookshanks meowed, and Hermione looked at him. "You know, don't you? You're trying to tell me something." 

"Have you had any luck in the library?" Harry asked.

She shook her head, then frowned. "Not at all. If I haven't found anything in two weeks, I'm asking Filch."

Harry nodded. "We'll keep an eye on Draco in the meantime."

"Come on, let's go before he sees us," Ron suggested.

They walked back through the town and all the way to Hogwarts, still distracted by Draco's meeting with the stranger.


	9. Gryffindors and the Potions Master

AN: No, I didn't abandon this fic! Just been busy, but I'll try to spent a bit more time on it and update more often.****

**9.  Gryffindors and the Potions Master.**

Ginny watched her potion carefully as she added the last ingredient, then let it cool, satisfied it was al right. She would like Potions if it weren't for Professor Snape teaching it, she was pretty good in the subject although she rarely displayed her knowledge openly. Hermione told her often enough how Professor Snape called her down for being a Know-It-All, and Ginny had no desire to share that experience. She kept a low profile, and Professor Snape still picked on her often enough just for being a Gryffindor. With a sigh, she started to put away the bottles and jars with the ingredients she had used. 

As she put the last item in her bag, she spotted Nathan Macnair from the corner of her eye and she looked up just in time to see him kick her cauldron. Too late to stop him, she still reached out, trying to catch the cauldron, but it toppled over, spilling her potion onto the floor. Nathan had moved quickly and was halfway across the room by the time her startled cry attracted the attention of Professor Snape.

"Miss Weasley, that'll be ten points from Gryffindor for your carelessness," he said in his cold voice.

"Nathan kicked it over," Ginny protested.

"I did not, how could I, I'm all the way over here," Nathan claimed.

"You did, you liar," Ginny said hotly. 

"Miss Weasley," Professor Snape warned her.

"Now she's calling me names, too," Nathan whined. 

"I'm telling the truth. You're a liar and you kicked over my potion." Ginny knew she shouldn't let herself be goaded like this, but she had spent a lot of time on her potion, and for as far as she could see she'd managed to get it exactly right. Not that she'd have received a high grade for it, no doubt Professor Snape would've been able to find something wrong with it. But now she didn't even have the chance.

"That's enough, Miss Weasley. Five more points from Gryffindor for calling Mr Macnair a liar," Snape said.

"What?! That's not fair! I told you I didn't do it, but you never listen to me anyhow, or to anyone else who isn't a Slytherin!" She was yelling now, and that made the silence when she stopped even more noticeable. Her classmates had all stopped what they were doing, and she thought some were holding their breath.

"Detention, Miss Weasley, tonight at seven," Professor Snape said smoothly.

She almost opened her mouth again, then common sense took over. She really didn't need detention all week, or even more points taken from her house. "Yes sir," she nodded, then turned away from him and all the Slytherins as she wiped up the spilled potion from the floor. She fought against her tears of anger and frustration. She really didn't understand how Harry had managed three weeks with Snape, and he even seemed to get along! He'd never really told her much detail, but today, after class, she'd try again and ask. Perhaps he could tell her something that would help her get through her detention without losing any more points.

She made sure she was well on time. She might not like detention, but being tardy would only make it worse. She knocked on the classroom door and stepped in. 

"Evening, Professor," she said with an effort.

Professor Snape always came up with the most unpleasant jobs for Gryffindors with detention, and tonight was no exception. As soon as she entered the dungeon, he handed her a tray full of small, slimy balls. Uncooked mussels. 

"Take out the various parts and sort them," Professor Snape instructed her, without acknowledging her greeting or her timeliness. 

Ginny nodded. 'Yes, sir," she replied, although inside she felt a stab of anger. Damn, he was rude! But she'd try to follow the advice Harry had given her, remain calm, and if she dared… she wasn't sure yet if she would.

Professor Snape sat down at his desk with a stack of papers to grade, and she took a seat at her usual desk. She started her unpleasant work. People often thought shellfish had just two parts, the shell and the critter itself, but there were several parts and, when uncooked, they were all cold and slimy. Ginny liked mussels –cooked- but after half an hour she wasn't sure if she'd ever eat them again. Yet she kept at it, working quickly but carefully so even Professor Snape couldn't criticise her too much.

Eventually she noticed he was done with the papers in front of him. He straightened and paused before reaching for a second stack. Now or never, Ginny thought. She was nervous. No matter what Harry had said about the Potions Master, she was a little afraid of him. Would he give her another detention or take more points? She'd never lost fifteen points in one day, and she didn't want to lose any more for her house. She could still forget it, simply carry on with her work, and chalk it up as an example that life wasn't always fair. But that felt like she'd chickened out on herself.

"Professor?" she asked. 

Professor Snape looked up. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lost my temper this morning." 

Professor Snape blinked, but he quickly recovered, staring at her with his dark, piercing eyes. 

"I didn't knock over the cauldron, Nathan kicked it. But I shouldn't have argued like that in class."

His eyes narrowed and it was an effort not to flinch. "Do you expect me to let you go?"

"No, sir," she replied truthfully. "I just wanted to tell what really happened."

He stared at her for what seemed to be an eternity, but she didn't look away. "You are right, you shouldn't have lost your temper. I will keep an eye on Macnair. Now finish your work," he said finally.

"Yes, sir, thank you sir," Ginny replied. She was greatly relieved, and also very glad she'd dared speak up. He hadn't actually said he believed her, not in so many words, but this would do for now. She turned back to the mussels, and when she was done she placed the jars neatly on a tray, then wiped down her desk.

"I'm done, sir," she said and she indicated the tray with the various flasks and jars.

Professor Snape got up and walked over. As he checked her work she couldn't read his expression. She held her breath, although she knew she had made no mistakes. 

"Acceptable," he said. "You can go."

"Thank you, sir," she replied. She made to leave.

"Wait," Professor Snape said suddenly.

She turned back.

"Miss Weasley, did Harry suggest you talk to me?" he asked.

She hesitated for a moment, then decided it was best to be honest. "Yes, sir. Well, all he said was that you might listen if I explained calmly. No one told me what to say exactly."

Professor Snape nodded slowly. "Real Gryffindors," he remarked.

For just a moment, Ginny was confused, not knowing how to take that comment. This was Professor Snape, who hated Gryffindor. Yet he hadn't sounded hateful. "Thank you, sir," she replied.

"Now I'm sure you have things to do," he added.

"Yes, sir," Ginny nodded. With a last glance she left before he could call her back again.

Professor Snape watched her go. He didn't doubt her side of the story. Truth to tell, he should've believed her when she first told him it had been Nathan who kicked over her cauldron, it was just the kind of thing the boy would do. But he'd jumped on the chance to take points from Gryffindor without trying to establish what had happened, and of course he couldn't back down in front of the entire class. What were a few points, anyhow? The detention had been justified, she shouldn't have lost her temper. No student would get away with yelling at him. Even if it she'd been right.

Damn, what was the matter with him lately. He'd taken points from Gryffindor ever since he started to teach. Partly because it fit with his ruse of being a Death Eater, and partly because those Gryffindors were favored by almost all the other teachers –perhaps not so blatantly and openly as he favored his Slytherins, but it happened nonetheless. And those Gryffindors were just too damn cocky for their own good. It didn't hurt them to be taken down a peg or two, and it certainly hadn't ever bothered him. He hadn't even given it a lot of thought.

Of course, that was a problem now. With that cursed Animagus project, he had to think about it. He'd always ignored those things he didn't like, including the advice that doing so was not a good idea. It had worked fine, and it would've continued to work if it weren't for those blasted sessions of forced soul-searching.

And Harry. If he were going to be honest, he had to admit Harry had gotten through to him before the Animagus exercises ever started. And now Miss Weasley? Next thing he knew all the Gryffindors would expect him to be nice to them. At least Harry hadn't expected him to treat him any different in class, although by assigning him to watch Longbottom he'd done just that. Well, it beat having Longbottom melt his cauldron once a week.

He got up. He was too distracted to continue with his grading, he might as well go for a stroll through the halls. It was almost curfew, perhaps he would catch some students out of their dormitory, and if any of them gave him a reason to assign a detention he'd make sure to give it to Filch.

Things didn't turn out that way. He'd barely left the dungeons when he spotted Harry walking through the corridor. The boy was deep in thought and didn't notice him until he almost walked into him. 

"Professor," he said as he started out of his reverie. 

"I certainly hope you were not paying so little attention while you were supposed to be patrolling," Professor Snape remarked.

"It's not my shift, sir," Harry replied. "I was just trying to find a quiet place to think. The common room is too crowded and the library is about to close."

Professor Snape frowned. Well, Harry could go where he wanted now, and he could understand the need for some peace and quiet more than he could ever admit, to Harry or anyone else. "Don't stay out too late," he said.

"I won't, sir," Harry promised. Then, just as Professor Snape thought he'd continue on his way, he looked up. "Can I speak with you about something –about the study group?"

Professor Snape blinked, then nodded. "Come along."

He led the way back to his office, where Harry waited without being told until he'd set an additional ward on the room. Not as strong as the ones used on the Charms classroom on Friday, but it would do against any casual listener.

"So what did you want to talk about?" he asked. 

"I'm having a hard time with the Animagus exercises," Harry started.

That wasn't what he had expected. "You?" he asked, frowning.

Harry nodded. "I just don't know who I am," he explained. "I know who everyone tells me I am, from the Dursleys who think I'm a freak to almost everyone here who call me The Boy Who Lived and expect me to defeat Voldemort, while I was just a baby back then. I know what other people think, but I just can't figure out who I really am."

"Why are you asking me?" Professor Snape asked. "Professor McGonagall is teaching that class, I'm hardly an expert on the topic." Far less than you'll ever know, he added to himself.

Harry shrugged. "She often does the same thing. Not in class, usually, but whenever anything happens she treats me like I'm some kind of miracle boy, I don't think she'd understand. I can't contact Sirius during the week, and I can't even talk with my friends, for there isn't any place that's really safe to talk. Then I realised you are one of the few people who never saw me as The Boy Who Lived." 

Harry, Ron and Hermione had taught everyone the three phrases in Parseltongue, but they weren't working on any more Parseltongue at the moment, and they didn't have access to any warded rooms for now. Professor Snape was pleased to hear Harry hadn't tried to speak with his friends in some blatantly obvious hiding spot that any Slytherin who tried would find in ten seconds flat. But he was not so sure about Harry's assessment of him. He snorted. "I saw you as James Potter's son and a Gryffindor. I'm not sure that's any better."

"But you don't anymore. You treat me just… normal. Even in class."

Well, perhaps he did, now. But he still didn't know how to be of assistance, he was having a hard enough time himself. "I doubt I'll be of any help if I told you who I think you are. The idea is to find out for yourself," he said. 

Damn, why hadn't Harry gone to one of his other Professors. He didn't have much experience with students asking for advice, even in his position as Head of House. Slytherins rarely spoke about anything except for simple problems with their school work, to do otherwise was considered a sign of weakness. Then, Animagus training wasn't normally on the curriculum either. Perhaps he should let Joey, Steve and Eileen know they could come to him if they needed to. With their background the training wouldn't be easy for them and they likely wouldn't want to ask Minerva, either. Or perhaps before he offered anything else he should figure out how he could be of help, first. Damn this entire mess.

"What is really important to you?" he ventured.

Harry frowned. "Magic –school. I want to be good at magic, it's what got me away from the Dursleys, and it's really great, but I'm easily distracted too. Quidditch. My friends, of course."

"Well, that's a start. Start with what's important to you and work from there," he suggested. Better than start with the negatives, which was what he'd been doing. 

Harry nodded, looking a little doubtful, but at least he didn't ask any further.

"Thank you, I'll try."

When Harry left, Professor Snape was left facing a new problem, helping his students in ways he'd always been able to avoid. But he'd deal with it, he always did. If Harry had chosen him to speak to, clearly he wasn't as unapproachable as he had been. Maybe that wasn't altogether bad. Although of course it shouldn't go too far.


	10. Cats at Halloween

**10. Cats at Halloween.**

Hermione fretted. She leafed through the books on cat behaviour as if that would make the information she needed appear. She'd long finished reading every book the library had on the subject, including several on general animal behaviour, but she'd put off speaking to Filch until the two weeks she'd given herself were over.

There hadn't been anything useful in the publications she'd found. Sometimes, some suggested, an animal picked up the feelings of the owner and would thus show anxiety towards those people the owner disliked. That could explain Crookshanks' behaviour, she certainly disliked Draco and so did Ron and Harry. It was tempting to take that as an explanation, it made sense and she wouldn't have to approach the caretaker. 

Yet however rational the explanation was, it didn't cover everything. They hadn't liked Draco from the start, and Crookshanks only started drawing attention to him this year. And of course there had been Pettigrew. She had to be sure.

She decided to search for the caretaker after lunch on Saturday. Most of the students would be attending the Quidditch game between Slytherin and Hufflepuff, which meant the school would be almost empty and Draco would be out of the way as well. Hermione always watched the game when Gryffindor played, but she didn't care that much that she had to see the other houses play. Hopefully Filch would be in a good mood, with no students making noise or getting into trouble.

And so she did. After lunch she walked to his office and knocked on the door. To her surprise and delight, she notice Crookshanks had followed her. He certainly didn't have a problem understanding her.

The door flew open and Filch glared at her. "What do you want?"

Maybe he wasn't in a good mood after all. Was he ever? Well, she couldn't back off now.

"Mr Filch, I wand to ask you something, if I may?" Hermione said. 

"You just did. But I suppose you have yet another question. I have more to do today, so out with it."

Filch still stood in the door opening, not making any move to let her in. Mrs Norris glared at her from where she sat, in the middle of the office, as unmoving as her owner. Well, no one would overhear, the castle was deserted and she would not give any details as why she wanted to learn anyhow. 

"Harry told me you can understand Mrs Norris –and that you said anyone can listen to their cat if only they would try. Could you.. could you teach me?"

Filch's eyes narrowed as he looked at her, then down at Crookshanks. The cat meowed.

"He's a smart one. Part Kneazle if you ask me, although cats can be smart enough of their own."

Part Kneazle? That made Crookshanks' behaviour even more ominous, Kneazles were known for their keen instincts. "Thank you, yes, he is," she replied. 

Crookshanks meowed at Filch again, and his normally harsh expression softened. For a moment Hermione thought Filch would give her the help she requested. But just as quickly his scowl was back as he looked at her. 

"So you, the Gryffindor Know-It-All, top student in every class, come to me, a Squib, and you ask me to teach you the one thing you don't know already."

Hermione flinched. She didn't mean it like that, of course, but yes it would look that way. She couldn't imagine life without magic, and to be a Squib in a school full of magic students –perhaps she shouldn't have asked. Well, she wouldn't have if there'd been any other way. "Please, sir, it's really important?"

Once again, Crookshanks backed her up, this time he was easy enough to understand even for her. But Filch did not give in. 

"No." He looked around at Mrs Norris, who stared back. Hermione couldn't tell what she said, but it made no difference. "Go to your library, or use your damn magic to learn, I don't care, but leave me alone," Filch growled. 

Hermione gave up, and with just a brief nod and an apologetic look she turned and left. Maybe she shouldn't have gone, maybe she should've gotten Harry to ask. Well, it was too late now. She didn't really blame Filch for his reaction, not really. But the problem remained, was Crookshanks just reacting to their dislike or did he have more to tell them?

She would search in the library on Kneazles, but she wasn't very hopeful. Most books she'd read on cats included the very cat-like magical creatures and she doubted there would be anything more to find.

Harry and Ron returned from the Quidditch pitch discussing the game with the rest of the house. 

"I tell you, Draco has a Firebolt II, a three year old broom isn't good enough for him," Ron said. 

"Yes, he's probably saving it. He didn't need it today but I bet he has one," Harry agreed.

"It's not that much faster than the first one," Fred said. "Lots of hype but that's mostly to try and sell the thing. You can easily beat him even if he does have one."

"Especially if he's flying like he did today," Seamus added.

Harry wasn't so sure. No doubt Draco hadn't tried every trick he knew today, there'd been no need. Hufflepuff had been an even easier win than Ravenclaw had been for them. That didn't mean Draco wouldn't try harder against their team next month. Of course Fred and George were well aware of that, and they'd scheduled a lot of practice time. It would be hard work, with classes, regular homework and the extra lessons.

Busy or not, he managed. It helped the classes were, in a way, easier than the previous years. It was much easier to learn for History of Magic. It had always been hard to remember the names and dates of countless goblin revolutions or giant wars, but the lessons about Grindelwald were much more interesting, if often worrisome as well, and were hard to forget. 

Defense against the Dark Arts consisted almost entirely out of practice in class. Most everyone could resist an Imperius spell now, as long as one of their classmates cast it, and that was something they could never practice as homework. Nor any of the other curses and counter spells they worked on. They were given some reading but most was practical and thus confined to the classroom and class hours. 

There were a few occasions when Harry feared something would go wrong, like when Dean and Neville managed to curse each other simultaneously and Professor Figg's back was turned. But he and Ron saw what happened and alerted her, and she cast the counter spell before either was seriously harmed. Perhaps his fears were unfounded, after all there were always other students to see what Professor Figg did not, and she knew what to do once she saw the problem.

Potions was easier than the previous years, too. Professor Snape's homework assignments were still twice as long as those of the other teachers, but now Harry had a better understanding of the subject he didn't have much trouble writing the essays about it. The lessons also went well, even while watching Neville. The need for his assignment became clear the Tuesday after the Quidditch game. 

 Harry was stirring his potion when he glanced over to Neville. They were making an antidote against were-lizard poison. As was often the case, Neville was shaking while adding his ingredients. Suddenly Harry saw something amiss. His arm shot out and he caught Neville. "Stop, don't add that," he said.

Neville threw him a confused look.

Harry sighed. "Elderberry _skins_, not seeds. I'm not entirely sure, but I think the seeds would react with the dragonleech juice and create noxious fumes."

"Oops, thank you," Neville stammered. He put away the seeds and started to sort through his potion ingredients, knocking a vial of blackrose buds off the table and onto the floor. 

Harry groaned, but at least they weren't explosive. He turned back to his own cauldron and let Neville sweep up the mess. 

"Thank you for catching that," Snape said to Harry as he left the classroom. After everyone else had left, of course, but that didn't matter. He didn't need anyone to put him even more into the limelight, and he was glad his vigilance had paid off. 

Before he knew it, it was Halloween. Classes were held as usual, but everyone was excited and distracted, anticipating the feast of the evening. Lavender and Parvati almost hexed each other in Defense because they had been talking during the lecture, but Seamus caught them; they were all learning to watch out for each other in class. 

The last period of the day was Care of Magical Creatures, and Hagrid let them go as soon as they were done feeding the Bowtruckles, seeing they weren't going to be able to concentrate anyhow. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione stayed behind as class was dismissed, taking the opportunity to talk to Hagrid for a while. They hadn't visited Hagrid as often as the other years, with all their extra work, and Harry felt a little guilty. He couldn't even talk about everything they did, not that he didn't trust Hagrid, but the half-giant wasn't included in the study group. Harry thought it was more whose expertise was needed directly than whom Dumbledore trusted; Professor Sprout wasn't included either. 

But this afternoon Harry took the time to talk for a while about all kinds of things. Hagrid asked Ron whether he'd heard anything from Charlie lately –and Norbert of course- and they told Hagrid about their Apparating lessons, and their last foray into Hogsmeade. That brought them onto the subject of Crookshanks' behaviour. 

"I'd keep a close eye on Draco, I would," Hagrid said. "That's a smart cat alright, an' he wouldn't act like that for no reason."

Harry agreed. "But we can't even catch him doing anything wrong, he doesn't even get into trouble in class or during mealtimes as much as he used to."

Hagrid frowned, his dark eyebrows almost meeting in the middle. "All the more reason to think sumthin' wrong. Not bloody likely he suddenly turned all nice, he's prolly up to sumthin'."

"Should we tell Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

Hagrid shrugged. "I reckon he knows Draco can't be trusted, he knows he's a Malfoy an' all. You can mention it if it makes you feel better but I doubt he can do anythin', not with jus' the cat to go on."

Harry nodded, that was exactly what they'd thought. 

Soon after, they left to prepare for the feast of the evening, and they waved goodbye. 

"After Christmas, I'll have a real cool animal in again, I hope. Gets a bit borin', these Bowtruckles," Hagrid promised as they left. 

Harry feigned polite enthusiasm, but once they were out of earshot they exchanged worried looks. They all knew Hagrid's taste in animals and while exciting, most 'interesting' animals were also quite dangerous!

"I hope it isn't a manticore," Ron guessed. 

"Or another dragon, perhaps that's why he asked after Charlie?" Harry suggested.

"The Headmaster would never allow that," Hermione said. But I hope it's nothing too dangerous, too!"

Speaking of animals, as they entered that evening, the Great Hall was once again filled with live bats, fluttering around near the ceiling and swooping over the tables. There were also huge, carved pumpkins, even bigger than the previous year. To Harry's delight, he spotted a tiny winged pumpkin among the bats, he was willing to bet it was a transfigured Snitch! He pointed it out to Ron and soon the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team was cheering about the neat little decoration. 

Harry noted with satisfaction that Draco was scanning the room to find out what they were pointing at, and only spotted the 'Snitch' after several long moments. If he'd just as much trouble finding the Snitch two weeks from now, Harry had nothing to worry about!

The candles flickered and the bats fluttered, and of course the golden plates filled with food on cue. Harry thought the food was even better than last year, too. It was funny, with his high expectations it would make sense if the actual thing would be less good, but that was never the case. Perhaps the house-elves did manage to make it better each year.

They ate all they could, and Harry managed a second helping of dessert, although afterwards he felt like he could barely move. Well, he didn't need to, he'd done his homework for tomorrow's classes earlier in the week and the assignments from today weren't due until Monday.

Thus, he wasn't happy at all when Crookshanks walked up, just as they left the Great Hall.

"Man, I can't walk all over the school following a cat when we know where he's going and we can't prove a damn thing," Ron complained. He'd eaten as much as Harry, or more.

Harry was inclined to agree, but then Crookshanks meowed loudly, and he wasn't looking at the steps leading down to the dungeons. The cat headed towards one of the upstairs corridors instead. With a sigh, the trio followed. 

They climbed the stairs considerably slower than they usually did. All the way past the Charms corridor, past the Transfiguration classroom, until they were near the Astronomy Tower. Suddenly Crookshanks stopped, looked back, then rounded the corner as he had before just as he came to the person he wanted to show them. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed, expecting to find Draco. 

To Harry's surprise and chagrin, the one they found was Tim Welch, a Ravenclaw Prefect, on his rounds. None of them could completely hide their expression of surprise, and Tim gave them a quizzical look.

"Gone for a walk?" he inquired. 

"It's supposed to be good for digestion, taking a walk after a meal," Hermione replied quickly. 

"Though I think we ate a bit too much," Harry added.

Tim shook his head. "I wish I hadn't eaten so much before going on my rounds, you're nuts to actually go for a walk when you don't have to."

"Tell me," Ron agreed. 

Harry knew the Muggle habit of going for a walk after dinner, not that the Dursleys had ever practiced it, of course. But over the past ten minutes he'd decided it was one habit he could do without. "I don't think it's working all that well for me, either," he said. "Let's go back to the dormitory."

They took their leave, ignoring Crookshanks, and as soon as they were well out of range, Ron turned to Hermione. 

"Your cat has lost it, making us walk all that way and leading us to Tim."

"He must have a reason," Hermione said uncertainly.

"Tim can't be in league with Draco, or Voldemort," Harry said. Tim was Muggle-born and he wasn't sure which was less likely, Tim joining Voldemort or Voldemort accepting a 'Mudblood'. 

"Perhaps Tim stepped on Crookshanks' tail or something," Ron mused. "I mean, there's no way Tim's a traitor, he can't stand Draco any more than any of us."

Still puzzled, they returned to the dormitory. 


	11. Christmas shopping

**11. Christmas shopping.**

The second weekend of November the Quidditch match against Slytherin was held. Harry cursed the weather, overcast so it was gloomy but not a drop of rain. Both sun and rain would cause the Snitch to glint, but a dark, gloomy day like this one would not make the Snitch any easier to spot. Of course it was just as hard for Draco, but still, he wasn't too happy with the weather.

He ate breakfast, then he and Ron didn't even start on their homework like they had last time. They spent the morning going over various strategies with the rest of the team, and trying to keep from getting too nervous. 

After a light lunch they went out to the Quidditch field to find the Slytherins already there, Draco triumphantly on a brand new Firebolt II. 

"I told you he had one!" Ron exclaimed. 

Harry nodded. "Figures."

"You're still the better Seeker," George encouraged him. The entire team fell in with him and feeling bolstered by their confidence, Harry mounted his own Firebolt and flew off to do a little warming up.

The other students streamed out of the school and onto the stands, and soon Madam Hooch called them all down. 

"Remember, I don't want any foul play from anyone," she warned them. "That goes for both teams."

Reluctantly, Harry nodded. It wasn't as if they didn't try to play fair, but sometimes you had to do _something_ when the Slytherins pulled every dirty trick in the book. 

George, captain for this game, also looked grim as he shook hands with Draco, and Draco barely managed to hide his sneer, but they both quickly looked blank as Madam Hooch frowned. 

"Then let the game begin." Madam Hooch released the Bludgers and the Snitch, then blew her whistle and threw the Quaffle in the air. Harry pushed off quickly.

No matter what the rest of the team said, Harry knew he and Draco were pretty evenly matched. He was good, but Draco had years more experience on a broomstick. They could stay close together to reduce the chances of a lucky win, but if the Snitch appeared anywhere further from where they were flying, it would be a close call. And it'd give Draco more opportunity to do something nasty. So Harry flew out alone, scanning the field. 

Draco seemed happy to do the same, and for a while little happened, or little that affected them directly at least. The Chasers were in top form and scored the first goal again, but the Slytherins didn't allow Gryffindor to get as far ahead as they had against Hufflepuff. Ron stopped the first attack but let the second slip through. Both teams scored again, taking turns until it was 80-70 for Gryffindor.

Harry saw the Slytherin Beaters trying to send the Bludgers after him, but Fred and George were too good for them, and he only had to duck out of the way once. 

And he still hadn't spotted the Snitch. He suspected it was hiding somewhere in the stands, if it'd been out in the open he'd have seen something by now, sun or no sun. He started a slow tour of the perimeter of the field. 

Draco saw what he was doing and cut in front of him, circling the field in the same direction. Harry sped up and slipped past Draco, Draco passed him again, and they kept it up, going faster and faster as they both did their best to keep the other from scanning the stands for the Snitch. 

They'd almost circled the field without seeing anything when suddenly something shot out from behind a pole, almost hitting Draco in the chest. With a cry, Draco grabbed it and whooped, flying out into the middle of the Quidditch pitch, holding the treacherous little ball in his hand. 

The Slytherins cheered, and Harry groaned. His idea had been correct, but more luck than skill Draco had won.

"The Snitch has caught Draco," Lee Jordan announced morosely as he saw what happened, drawing a few brief laughs from the Gryffindor side of the stands, but they cut off quickly. Lucky hit or not, the game was lost. 

Harry pulled up and his team mates gathered around him.

"Tough luck, man," Fred said.

"I bet they enchanted it," Katie complained.

George scowled. "Since that time with the rogue Bludger Madam Hooch makes sure none of the balls can be enchanted, and she checks them just before the game. It was terrible luck, though."

It was a subdued group that made their way to the broom shed, and back to the Gryffindor dorms. Harry hated to lose for his team, and he hated it even worse when it happened in such a stupid manner. Once it'd been the Dementors, causing him to fall while Cedric caught the Snitch, and now the blasted little thing practically flew into Draco's arms. If he had to lose from a team that was better than they were it'd be one thing, but this? It simply wasn't fair. Well, life wasn't fair, he'd learned that time and again.

-0-

Little happened the next month. They had classes as usual and spent a lot of time studying. The last weekend before the Christmas holidays was another Hogsmeade weekend. Harry, Ron and Hermione went out together as usual, but split up once they got to the village. They all needed to do some Christmas shopping for each other.

Ron and Hermione were both pretty easy to shop for. Harry found a large, new poster of the Chudley Cannons in which the team flew proudly on the latest Firebolt II's. Harry knew Ron had mentioned it and his own was several years old, cracked from the frequent moving and it didn't even have the newest Chaser who'd been recruited last year.

For Hermione he bought a book –what else? He browsed a long time, considering various subjects, but finally settled on _'Experimental Charms to Emulate Muggle Devices'_. It showed spells that would propel a bicycle without having to put any weight on the pedals, light a ring of magical fire on the stove –saving gas and heating the food quicker- and other useful ways to do magic in the Muggle world, making things easier without being noticed. 

When he had his presents, he shrunk them so they fit into his bag and went to the Three Broomsticks where he'd meet with his friends. Hermione was already there, chatting with Ginny, and Harry joined them. He ordered a Butterbeer while they waited for Ron to come in. Soon he, too, arrived and they had lunch together. After lunch they went out again, shopping for Ron's and Hermione's parents and other family.

Harry also bought the Weasleys a present, a tie with dozens of small, flying Snitches for Mr Weasley and the latest cookbook with the collected recipes from the Witch's Weekly for Mrs Weasley. For Hagrid he found a funny dragon figurine that breathed a real, tiny flame. He found a sturdy shrinkable backpack for Sirius in the pet shop –it was meant for dog owners to be carried by large dogs or their owners, and it would of course be handy for Sirius in that he could use it in either form. Of course, he bought some socks from Dobby, striped toe socks in bright colors with smileys on the toes.

Ginny had come with them after lunch, something which once would've irritated Harry but she no longer fawned over him and he liked her well enough. He started to look surreptitiously for a present for her, and after a while he managed to slip off pretending he'd forgotten something, and bought her a pretty, moving owl brooch. Then he rejoined the group.

While they were browsing the shelves at Dervish and Banges, Harry tried to think if he'd missed anyone. He had never bough as many people Christmas presents, he'd never had many people to buy them for. His eye fell on a mortar and pestle set. A few weeks earlier a Hufflepuff first-year had put some undiluted Bubotuber pus in the one in Snape's office during a detention, and Harry had noticed the other day that Professor Snape hadn't replaced it yet. 

"Maybe I should get this for Professor Snape," he said aloud. "Do you think he'd like it?"

Ron looked at him as if he'd gone nuts. "Buy a present for Professor Snape? Are you crazy? Why, nobody does."

Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore probably does. But that's the point. I know what it's like not to get anything much for Christmas."

"Ron, sometimes you're such a dork," Ginny exclaimed. "I think it's a great idea. In fact, I think we should all go in on this."

Ron looked at his sister as if he saw water burn, but Harry liked the idea, and to his relief Hermione nodded.

"He hasn't been nearly as bad lately. Anyone can change," she said.

"He, well, he'd probably think we're trying to get better grades or something," Ron said. 

"Last year, yes, but not anymore," Harry said after a moment. "You don't have to be in if you don't like it. I just thought it'd be a nice thing to do."

"Al right then," Ron gave in. As they picked up the set and walked over to the counter to pay for their purchase he trailed behind and Harry could hear him mutter, "A present for Snape, I can't believe it."

Finally, the time came to return to Hogwarts. The trip had been quite enjoyable, and Harry was glad they had not run into Draco this time, or seen anything else to distract them from their Christmas shopping.

-0-

Returning to Hogwarts, they quickly went back to their studies. Most teachers knew they would be distracted by the upcoming holiday, the Christmas decorations, and the general excitement, but there was still homework to be done. 

Harry helped Ron and Ginny with History of Magic; many of the events of Grindelwald's reign in Europe had been intertwined with the Muggle Second World War, and while it was all new to them he had at least heard of several names and places in Muggle school, before Hogwarts. 

He noticed Lavender and Parvati giggle as he also offered to help Ginny with Transfiguration, which he thought was really silly. Ginny was a good friend and he was just helping her out in a subject she had trouble with. No one –except maybe Hermione- could be good at everything. Then again, he was glad those two would be gone for Christmas. He blushed as he thought what they'd say when they heard he had bought her a Christmas present. 

Okay, he did like her. But he was terribly clumsy when it came to expressing his feelings to girls, and no matter how she'd doted on him in her first year, he wasn't entirely sure of her reaction now. He'd rather not risk her friendship by moving into something he wasn't ready for.

-0-

Hogwarts, in the meantime, looked like Christmas had already arrived. Hagrid brought in a giant Christmas tree for the Great Hall, as well as a number of smaller trees for the common rooms of each house. Professor Flitwick decorated the one in the Great Hall with live fairies, twinkling stars, brightly colored birds, glowing balls of light and sparkling tinsel. Like at Halloween, Harry was amazed that the splendour surpassed last year's, however wonderful it had been then. 

They decorated their own tree in the Gryffindor common room, and since everyone wanted to take part it was the fullest tree Harry had every seen. Not a branch was without some ornament, and whenever no one was looking one of the twins would turn the tree itself some strange color, only to have it turned back green by some of the more traditional-minded students. 

He was certain Professor Dumbledore was the one to add some of the stranger touches; the neon coloured garlands, and the miniature sleigh, pulled by the tiny reindeer, which floated through the halls while the tiny Santa sang out loud 'Grandma got run over by a reindeer!'. Its first appearance had been during a History of Magic lesson, and Harry wasn't sure what had been better; the sleigh or the expression on Professor Binns' face as it interrupted his lecture. 

And the morning when most of the students were leaving, Peeves showed up wearing a Santa hat, pelting everyone with Christmas ornaments. 

Finally, almost everyone was gone, and Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Colin and Dennis Creevey had the dorm to themselves. 


	12. Christmas holidays

**12. Christmas holidays.**

Professor Snape was having a rather good holiday. Not that he liked Christmas itself. It held little enough pleasant memories, as did all traditional family events. And here at Hogwarts it meant altogether too many frilly decorations and colleagues who insisted he join them and be cheerful. But it also meant almost three weeks of no classes and few students. 

There were just eight of them; Harry of course, Granger, the two younger Weasleys, the Creeveys, and a couple quiet Hufflepuff first years. Not a single Slytherin had remained at Hogwarts for the holidays, so he wasn't even required to make himself available at mealtimes. He showed up for dinner because he knew Albus would badger him about it if he withdrew into his quarters completely. Yet the rest of the time was his own. 

He read up on the latest publications in the mornings, had the house-elves bring him lunch, and spent the afternoons brewing several of the new concoctions described in the articles. 

It was too bad he had so little time for research, himself. Other years he'd managed to get some work done during summer, but this past year he'd not even managed that, with all the student letters and what not. Well, hopefully this summer would be better. At least this Christmas he could catch up on what others had done.

He woke up on Christmas morning to the sound of a house-elf scurrying in his room. However quiet they were, he always heard them. At least they knew and didn't try to bring his presents at some ungodly hour. Or present, he didn't expect more than one this year. 

Previous years his father had sent him something. Whatever it had been, it was always outrageously expensive, otherwise tasteless, and accompanied by a letter chiding him for taking such a lowly position and inquiring whether the coming year he'd finally come to his senses, leave 'that school' and take a real job somewhere. But when he'd been exposed as a spy, his father had made it clear he wanted nothing more to do with him. Well, no big loss. He didn't even regret much not being able to hear from his mother, she'd never been able to stand up for him, nor tried very hard.

He got up, poured himself a cup of tea from the tray the house-elf had also brought, and picked up the present from Albus. It was easily recognisable by the extremely gaudy paper, even before he opened the card, which featured a jolly Santa who happily waved at him hollering 'Merry Christmas, meeeeeeeeeeeeerrry Christmas! Hohoho!'. It refused to shut up, too, once he'd opened it, even when he put it back in the envelope.

But whatever he might think of Albus' taste in wrappings and cards, the older wizard always took care in picking out the actual present. He unwrapped a beautiful book, The Wizard's Guide to the Collections of the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, filled with reproductions detailed enough that they could be enlarged, at a touch of the wand, to full size without getting blurry.

Professor Snape appreciated good art. The only reason he didn't visit any of the predominantly Muggle museums was that he didn't like dealing with said Muggles. Fortunately, he was hardly alone in that respect and Wizard publishing companies had published books such as this.

It was only as he had leafed through the book and looked up to reach for his wand, that he noticed there was another present after all. He hadn't even seen it before. He carefully closed the book and put it aside, then picked up the present. 

Years of tasteless presents had dimmed his enthusiasm, but not his curiosity. He spent only a few moments wondering who it'd be from –had his mother sent him something after all, or perhaps one of the staff?- then opened the package. 

Had he spent all day guessing, he would never have considered what he found. He looked at the mortar and pestle set with surprise, there were few enough people who would've noticed he hadn't replaced his old one. He picked up the card that was included in the package, quicker now. 

_Merry Christmas!_

_Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron._

Whatever he'd expected, it definitely wasn't this. He stared at the card, not sure how to react. Harry, he was sure, had been the one to pick out the set. He smiled briefly. He knew him well enough to know it was just a nice gesture, with no double intentions. The others, now, made him wonder, and he frowned again.

The Weasley girl had some of the same straightforwardness as Harry, she probably simply liked to do something nice. He noticed that didn't bother him as much as it would have a year ago, although it still made him feel a little awkward. Granger always did what she thought was right, something which some people would say was the same thing. It certainly was not. And the Weasley boy was in it only because of the others, of course. But whatever their inner feelings, it was a thoughtful thing to do. Who would ever have thought he'd get a Christmas present from a Weasley? He laid the card down and looked at the set again. And decided he would accept the gift, from all four of them. 

As he made that decision, he considered going to the Great Hall for lunch. At dinner they'd all be seated together, as Albus arranged it every year when there were so few students, and that meant his colleagues would all be right there. He might appreciate the gift, he still knew he was uncomfortable about word getting out. Gryffindors buying him a present, and he accepted it? Next thing Minerva and Pomona would expect him to be nice and friendly in the classroom and everywhere. And he just couldn't imagine being open and sociable to everyone in the entire school. At least they hadn't tried anything like this while school was in session. It would be easier to catch the students alone at lunch than at dinner, but showing up at lunch at all would raise eyebrows. No, better he show up at dinner like usual.

So he spent the day leafing through his new book, then reading and experimenting as usual. Finally, at dinner time, he left his rooms and walked up the broad steps to the Great Hall. As he had expected, the House tables were gone and there was just one table in the middle of the room. More decorations filled up the rest of the Hall, smaller trees in addition to the large one that had been put up before the holidays, fake snow, snowmen, and even a large toy train that ran circles around the table. It was snowing outside and the ceiling mirrored the falling snowflakes. It was very, very Christmassy and also quite overdone. 

Albus and Minerva were already seated, fortunately they were talking together so they didn't pay much attention to him or anyone else. The four Gryffindors were standing together near one of the trees, examining something Weasley held. They were all wearing those brightly colored sweaters Mrs Weasley made every year, apparently Granger had received one now, too. Well, there was no accounting for taste.

He walked over and resisted the urge to wait for them to notice him before he spoke. It would be interesting to see their expressions, see how they expected him to react, but that would be a rather unseasonable thing to do. 

Instead, as soon as he reached them he simply said, "Thank you for your present."

"Merry Christmas, sir," Harry replied immediately. He smiled so broadly that Professor Snape felt himself smile briefly, no matter how much he'd intended to keep a straight face. 

The others quickly chimed in, "Merry Christmas!" Weasley rather wide-eyed, but he did not falter in his words.

"Merry Christmas," he replied, then nodded and walked to the table.

Dammit, Albus was looking at him. He could see the Headmaster's eyes twinkle, even among all these other blinkity things. At least Minerva hadn't looked around. He sat down on Albus' other side, then went through the inevitable 'Marry Christmas' routine with her before thanking Albus for his thoughtful present. That at least was less awkward, and they were soon talking pleasantly about art. 

Soon the rest of the staff and students showed up, and more Christmas greetings were exchanged. Even Argus joined them, but to Snape's relief, Sybill did not. The woman got on his nerves, and on those of just about anyone else. Poppy sat down on his other side, which suited him fine. There were the inevitable Christmas crackers, which he rather disliked, especially since two years ago, yet this time it held no evil surprises. It cracked open to reveal nothing more than a large button with yet another cheery Santa, which waved merrily but, thank Merlin, didn't make a sound. 

As everyone was seated the food appeared on the table, steaming platters with turkey, roast potatoes and gravy. He helped himself to a generous serving, and soon found the food to be excellent. He felt himself relax enough so he could actually enjoy it. 

Poppy had started to tell him about her family and all her nieces and nephews, but he'd managed to change the subject to the food, then to Diagon Alley restaurants, which was somewhat more interesting. Usually he just tuned out but this seemed to work as good or better, for she often wouldn't stop talking about her family whether he listened or not. 

Even the students didn't bother him tonight. They were excited, speaking about their Christmas presents and the oldest Creevey boy had taken the new camera to the table and got up a few times to take pictures. Instead of calling the boy to order and telling him to sit down, he ignored it, although he refused to smile. He even took a brief look at the thing when it was passed around; Creevey called it a 'digital' camera, and it showed the pictures taken on a small screen built in to the thing. Without looking too interested, he still listened as the boy told Minerva and Filius about his computer at home. Muggles came up with the most amazing things to make up for their lack of magic. And when the Weasley girl asked him to pass the cranberry sauce, he did so before he even realised how rarely his colleagues cared to ask him such a thing, let alone one of the students.

Finally, desert was served, huge Christmas puddings –as if anyone had room left for a large desert. Of course everyone took a large serving anyhow, even Pomona, who was always going on about how she needed to lose some weight. 

As he got up from the table, he realised he hadn't had a better dinner in a long time. Then, Albus stopped him as he was about to walk off.

"Minerva suggested we leave the table here until the rest of the students return. I liked the idea, myself, but if you have any objections…" 

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled, he had definitely noticed he'd been able to relax more than usual. Professor Snape glanced at Minerva, who looked threw him a challenging look, daring –and expecting- him to protest. 

"I think it's a fine plan," he said instead. Then he smiled at Minerva's dumbfounded expression. With a brief nod, he turned and left the Great Hall.

-0-

So for the rest of the holidays they ate all together at the center table. Well, almost all, Argus did not join them again. And thank Merlin the decorations, apart from the large tree, were gone again the day after Christmas. There was such a thing as 'too much'. 

There were no set seating arrangements at the table, so everyone sat down where they wished. He managed to avoid Arabella and Hagrid, and eventually enjoyed the mealtimes enough he came in for lunch on the last two days of the year.

And so New Year's Eve arrived. Normally there wasn't a whole lot of fuss surrounding the New Year, but this year the Weasley twins had sent a huge box of fireworks, and the Gryffindors had managed to talk Albus into giving them permission to set it off at midnight. Not they'd had too much trouble getting permission, Snape suspected. Then at lunchtime, Filius had boasted about some spectacular spells, and of course the students and several of the staff wanted to see those. 

He could've stayed in his dungeons. He distrusted any fireworks the Weasley twins sent, his opinion of them hadn't changed yet over the past several months. But they wouldn't do anything too dangerous and he'd risk their hilarious sense of humour. So here he was on the Quidditch pitch, which hopefully provided enough space so not too much damage would be done by the Weasleys' fireworks. 

 And just for this once, he'd judged the Weasleys wrong. The fireworks were spectacular and huge; dragons chasing each other, spinning wheels of colored flame, giant flowers so big the entire sky lit up, but even the biggest dragon totally failed to chase anyone of those watching or set anything on fire, and it was all in good taste. 

Filius did not let himself be outdone and created the wildest scene of birds and other creatures out of a luminescent smoke in every colour imaginable. It was well past one before they went back inside.

All in all, it had been the best Christmas holiday he could remember, and when Saturday evening the students returned, he didn't even mind overtly much. 


	13. It couldn't last

**13.  It couldn't last.**

Harry had thoroughly enjoyed the holidays as well. They had slept late, played games, and spent hours talking and drinking hot chocolate in the Gryffindor common room without the constant interruptions that came with living in the busy tower at other times. It had been very nice that Ginny had remained at Hogwarts this year, they'd twice visited Dobby in the kitchen and were stuffed to bursting, Dumbledore had arranged a couple times for them to see Sirius in his office –unfortunately they couldn't risk Christmas dinner or New Year's eve, but it was better than nothing- and even Professor Snape had been quite friendly, almost as he had been at the end of the summer. On top of all that there'd been not a single Slytherin and the Dursleys hadn't bothered to send even the smallest toothpick or tissue, good riddance if you asked him.

The new term started with lots of homework. It seemed their teachers suddenly remembered that, even with the threat of Voldemort, they still had their O.W.L.s at the end of the year. Harry groaned as he looked over the homework they received just that first day, and Fred and George also insisted they get in at least an hour's worth of practice on the Quidditch pitch. Hermione, of course, was in great spirits, happy with the challenge and saying she was glad she had something to do again after she'd finished her holiday's homework the first weekend. As if she hadn't enjoyed herself the rest of the time!

He was extremely glad he was doing better in Potions, for Professor Snape started them on a difficult brew, then assigned them loads of homework as well. Even so, Professor Snape was noticeably more patient with them all, even repeating part of his explanation to Dean without taking any points. Rumor had it he'd gone all day yesterday without taking a single point from Gryffindor, too.

Professor Flitwick, after lunch, gave them almost as much homework after a demanding hour practicing vanishing spells. At least Hagrid wasn't likely to be too bad; most of Care of Magical Creatures was practical and the half-giant rarely required lots of reading or long essays.

As he walked towards Hagrid's hut he could hear a snorting and a pawing at the ground. He started and looked at Ron.

"Oh no, Hagrid's real interestin' animal, or whatever he called it," Ron said, turning white. 

Harry winced, remembering Hagrid's hint at Halloween. "What do you think it is?"

"Sounds a bit like a dragon."

"No way, they're bigger and make even more noise," Harry said, hoping fervently he was right. He'd seen enough dragons up close to last him a lifetime. This creature sounded awfully big too, though.

"Harry, Ron!" Hagrid greeted them enthusiastically. 

"Hi Hagrid," Harry replied, trying to sound not too apprehensive. "What eh, what is that sound?"

"Oh, ye'll see in a moment. 'E's a beauty, 'e is."

That wasn't very helpful. Nervously, Harry waited for the rest of the class to arrive. At last Hagrid started to talk. 

"Las' summer I was on the continent for a spell," he started off. "Te see some ol' relatives of mine. Underway I ran into a few mountain trolls, not too friendly a bunch, but they were okay once they fig'red out I liked their critters. They 'ad a few of these, like ter ride 'm. Anyone know yet what critters I mean?"

Ron raised his hand, looking rather pale. 

"Yes Ron?"

"Eh, you got a Graphorn? A real Graphorn?"

"Exactly! Five points to Gryffindor. Yup, mountain trolls like to tame and ride Graphorns. They're a great help up there in the high areas, save 'm a lot of walkin' and climbin'. They're extremely sure-footed, haven't ever 'eard of one fallin' yet, and there's not a whole lotta decent trails up there."

"But they're dangerous, the book said they're like really aggressive," Dean said.

Hagrid shook his head. "Well, they are, but only 'til they're tamed. Is hard to tame one, an' though I wouldn't mind tryin' my hand on it some day if I could get a young un, I wouldn't bring one inta class. Some of 'm just won't learn, ye know? But those that are broke to ride, they're fine. Bit feisty sometimes if they don' get enough exercise but that's hardly ever a problem in the mountains."

Harry wasn't completely reassured, and wondered how much exercise this one'd had since arriving here, but he did his best to look brave. He had to trust Hagrid wouldn't do anything that'd get them all killed. He followed Hagrid to the large enclosure, and Hagrid opened the gate. 

"This 'ere is Lumpy."

Inside, a huge, hump-backed animal raised its head. Harry's first impression was 'ugly'. It stood as tall as a horse at the withers, or what would've passed for them, and it was much more massive. It had two long, sharp horns pointing almost straight forward, solid, trunk-like legs, splayed feet and a thick, purple grey skin. The head looked like a cross between a rhino and a dinosaur. It wore a bridle on its head, and was tethered to a post, which was probably about as likely to hold it as a matchstick would hold a horse, if it didn't care to be tied up.

It snorted as it watched them enter, yet it didn't charge. Hagrid approached it, avoiding the horns as it swung its head towards him, and stepped up to the side of the huge creature. 

"Always be watchful of those horns, now. He don't mean no harm but he don't know his own strength, if he catches ye with 'm, it's gonna hurt." 

He reached into one of the pockets of his coat and pulled out a chunk of meat, which he offered to the beast on a flat hand. "Hold yer hand flat and he won't nip yer fingers," Hagrid continued. "Now any of ye –not all at once, mind- want ter come and help me brush 'm?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. So far, the beast seemed harmless enough. Harry shrugged. "I guess we can."

"At least we won't have to worry about Draco getting in the way," Ron said, pointing at Draco. The Slytherin stood at the very rear of the group. If Harry had been worried about him getting injured again, he wasn't now –it looked like Draco wasn't gonna get anywhere near the Graphorn. 

Together with Neville, who also looked rather pale but apparently still trusted Hagrid's judgement –he'd done well with the Hippogriffs and Care of Magical Creatures was probably his best subject after Herbology- they approached the beast. Hagrid held the leash and kept the animal from swinging its large horns.

"Anyone from Slytherin?" Hagrid asked. He looked over the group until, with some reluctance, Blaise came forward. Clearly the Slytherins put less trust in Hagrid. 

"Good, very good," Hagrid said. He handed them all a stiff, long-haired brush. "Jus' brush the hide, 'specially the crags, to get all the sand out. Isn't a lot of sand in the mountains, 'e might get itchy if 'e don't get brushed. Watch the horns, ye can walk all 'round him otherwise. 'e can't kick ye, their legs don't reach up like that."

Hagrid himself started to groom the head of the animal, and Harry, Ron, Neville and Blaise set to work on the rest of the beast. The skin was thick as anything Harry had ever seen, thicker even than the hide of the Blast-Ended Skrewts. 

As the other students saw 'Lumpy' did not make any move to attack those who were brushing them they, more or less reluctantly, took their turn. All except Draco, who scowled as he remained where he was, leaning semi-casually against the gate post, claiming he was not going to get his hands dirty on such an ugly beast. Hagrid tried in vain to persuade him, but finally had to give up as the boy refused to budge.

"It's no shame te be afraid of a big critter like Lumpy," he said as the lesson was over. "I'll have 'm here for a bit, 'til the weather gets too warm for 'm to be comfortable. P'rhaps next time."

Draco scowled deeper. "I'm not scared," he snapped, just a little too quick to be believable. The Gryffindors laughed. Harry, too. The git deserved it!

-0-

By the end of the week, Harry was looking at a weekend that would mostly be spent doing homework. And, of course, going to the Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. No amount of homework would keep him from attending a Quidditch game, whether he had to play or not. Besides, it was useful seeing the other teams play, they still had to play Hufflepuff in the next match in March.

It was still cold, but also sunny and there was no wind. Great weather to fly, although the snow on the ground would make the Snitch hard to spot; any glint could just as well be ice crystals.

Harry wore a thick sweater under his coat and his Gryffindor shawl, he'd decided against openly supporting either team by wearing their colours. He liked Cho and while he no longer was interested in her romantically, he would like to see her win, yet a Hufflepuff win might be better for Gryffindor.

The teams kicked off and soon the game was in full swing. The Beaters and Chasers were pretty evenly matched, so there was a lot of action. Harry also scanned the field for the Snitch, although it would be unlikely he would spot it from where he was sitting. 

He greatly enjoyed the game, as always –this was Quidditch after all- but he soon felt he would not have to worry about the next match. The teams were not bad, but most of the players had older brooms, and there was little of the high speed action of the Gryffindor and, Harry had to admit, the Slytherin team. Still, the teams were pretty evenly matched and it wasn't until two hours into the game both Seekers suddenly went into a headlong dive towards the Hufflepuff side of the pitch. Standing up, and peering in the direction the Seekers were headed, Harry spotted it too; near the bottom of the goal post was a glint that definitely was not snow or ice. It zoomed off, and he almost lost it from his place here on the stands, then saw a tiny glint headed towards the stands, close to the ground. The Hufflepuff Seeker needed a fraction of a second less than Cho to pick it up again, and after a nice, tight turn, he rose up into the air, holding the Snitch in his hand. Harry cheered; his regret Cho had not won was overruled by his respect for the quick action of the Hufflepuff Seeker; that had been a very nice manoeuvre, especially on the Cleansweep he was riding. He would have to watch the lithe Fourth-year after all, come March.

-0-

The next week got off to a good start, even the Graphorn was still rather meek. Hagrid made sure it got enough exercise, Harry had seen them emerge from the Forbidden Forest during the weekend and in their Tuesday class Hagrid saddled it, too. Still, to Hagrid's obvious disappointment, Harry passed on giving it a try. He'd seen how much force Hagrid used to turn the beast's head, and he was afraid he simply wouldn't have the strength to stop or turn it. It wouldn't be of much help that it wouldn't buck him off or try to attack him if it simply carried him off through the Forest to who-knows-where. Nor were there any other volunteers. Finally, Hagrid himself rode it around the paddock and the path around his shack for a bit, while they watched.

-0-

That Wednesday, Harry walked the halls. It was not his shift, but Yoni from Ravenclaw had spilled ink over her transfiguration essay and had asked him to trade while she could re-write it. Harry had finished his own homework and he had agreed. It was a snap anyhow, what with his Marauder's Map. 

That was strange, what was Draco doing in the Potions classroom? He was not visiting with Snape, Harry could see Snape in the staff room. 

Of course there were a dozen quite normal explanations, but Harry had a bad feeling and he did not think it had anything to do with his dislike of Draco. He wished he had his cloak with him. Walking softly, he went down to investigate. 

Coming closer, he saw Draco had just entered Snape's office. Now Harry knew something was wrong. No one was allowed in there alone, ever. He considered turning around and warning the Professor, but the staff room was quite a long way from here and by the time they returned Draco could be anywhere. If he were gone by the time Harry made it up there he could even deny ever having been in here. With most other students, even the Slytherins, Harry thought Snape would take his word, but Draco? That would be a toss-up. He needed proof. 

Walking slowly so his footfalls did not make any sound, Harry reached the dungeons, walked through the classroom and peeked in through the door. It appeared the office was empty, but another glance at his Map showed Draco was standing next to Snape's desk. So, Draco had found himself an invisibility cloak as well.

Looking closely, Harry could now see a capsule drop soundlessly into a vial sitting in a rack on Snape's desk. Another one followed it. Harry's breath caught, if he was not mistaken the capsules would have a time-release skin, causing who-knows-what kind of reaction once it dissolved. And for some reason, he was sure it would not be a simple dung bomb or such. 

Again, he wondered what to do. He now knew what to warn Snape for, but he still did not have any proof it was Draco, except for what he had seen on his map. Anything he did would give him away, and like it or not, he was pretty evenly matched with Draco. He knew a lot of curses but Draco knew many ways to block them. But of course Harry had one great advantage, he knew Draco was here while Draco had not seen him, and likely felt pretty secure under his cloak.

He pointed his wand, took aim using his map. "Petrificus Totalus!" he called out. 

He ducked back from the office door, just in case it did not work, but nothing happened. "Accio cloak," he used next. The silvery cloak lifted off Draco, who was frozen holding a small flask in his gloved hands. 

"Got you," Harry said, unable to keep from voicing his satisfaction. He rushed off to the staff room.

-0-

Professor Snape believed Harry immediately and Harry felt relieved as he followed Snape, running to keep up, and suppressing the urge to check his map to see if Draco was still there. He had been there when they left the staff room, and he would fall behind if he checked again.

Soon they were in the dungeon. Snape snarled wordlessly when he saw Draco. He looked at the petrified boy, at the flask Draco held in his hands, and at the vial on the shelf. Taking his wand, he cast a stasis spell on the vial. Then he took his gloves from his robes, carefully took the flask from Draco's hand, and put it down on his desk. Finally, he took up his wand again.

"Finite Incantatem" 

Draco gasped and almost fell as he was released from his petrification. Snape caught him by the arm and roughly dragged him up, plucked his wand from his robes, then pushed him into the desk chair. He remained standing, looming over Draco.

"Distilled manticore blood and devil's fig. Both highly illegal. Mixing them creates odourless, toxic fumes which are fatal in less than a minute. Never mind that you tried to kill me but you would also have caused a serious danger to whoever would find me. Not that you care, I suppose." Snape's voice was flat and cold. 

"No, I don't. You're a traitor, you're a spy. I hate you!" Draco burst out. He looked wild, eyes flashing hatred.

Professor Snape winced and for a long moment, everyone seemed frozen in time. Harry certainly had not dared move while he watched. 

"Harry, get the Headmaster," Snape said finally, breaking the silence in a flat voice. 

"Yes sir!" Harry replied and took off, glad to be able to leave. He hurried down the halls again, checking the Map just to be sure Professor Dumbledore was, indeed, in his office. He navigated the corridors quickly and jumped over a vanishing step in a staircase. He reached the Gargoyle, gave the password, and waited impatiently as the moving stairs took him up to the Headmaster's office.

"Draco –Professor Snape caught Draco trying to poison him, Sir," Harry blurted out without waiting for the Headmaster to offer him a lemon drop or ask him to sit down. 

The Headmaster started, but his voice remained calm. "Tell me what happened."

Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice as well. "Malfoy tried to poison Professor Snape, with a time-release poison. I saw him –Malfoy- in Professor Snape's office on my Map, he was wearing an invisibility cloak. I Petrified him and got Professor Snape. He saw what Malfoy had been doing and sent me to get you." Harry surprised himself by getting the grist of the message without stumbling over his words. 

Dumbledore rose from behind his desk, muttering something under his breath Harry couldn't hear, but he suspected it was a curse, one of the non-magical kind. The Headmaster's eyes had lost all their usual twinkle and Harry almost shrank back as the old wizard started down the moving stairs and motioned for him to follow.

The Headmaster did not run, but he moved quicker than it would seem. Before too long they entered Snape's office. The scene was almost as when Harry had left, Draco sat in the desk chair, now looking sullen, and Professor Snape still looming over him, his face blank. Professor Snape half-turned as they came in, and for just a moment a look of relief at the sight of the Headmaster was evident. 

"Severus," the Headmaster said as he walked up to Snape and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Headmaster." The Potions Master's voice and face were expressionless again. 

"Tell me what happened –Malfoy tried to poison you?"

Professor Snape gave one brief nod. "He attempted to make a mixture of distilled manticore blood and devil's fig, using a simple time-release capsule. Its fumes are odourless, and highly toxic. If it weren't for Harry noticing him, he might well have succeeded in his plans."

At those words, Draco audibly hissed and shot daggers towards Harry. Until then, the Headmaster had turned his attention solely on Professor Snape, but now he looked down at Draco, who stared back defiantly.

"Is there anything –anything- you have to say for yourself?" 

Harry knew that if the Headmaster had addressed him that way, he would've wanted the earth to swallow him. But Draco seemed to be beyond reason. 

"I hate him, he's a dirty traitor, he deserves to die. And you are a stupid old fool for employing him. I'll be _glad_ to be expelled from this dirty, Mudblood-loving place!"

"I'm afraid what you've done goes a little beyond a simple expulsion," Dumbledore said quietly.

Draco snorted. "You can't sent me to Azkaban. I didn't use any of the Unforgivables and I'm not sixteen yet."

Dumbledore shook his head. "What will happen to you will be up to the Wizengamot to decide."

Draco seemed a little startled at that, but not too much. "They still can't sent me there. And I don't care if I'm sent anywhere else, I'll still be out of here."

Dumbledore sighed, then looked at Professor Snape. The Potions Master had shown no emotion whatsoever after that first flash of relief upon seeing the Headmaster.

"I think we should take this to my office," the Headmaster said. "Is everything secured here?"

Professor Snape nodded. "I will have to reset the wards, of course."

"Then do so," the Headmaster replied. "Harry –please return to the Gryffindor tower. I would like to speak to you in more detail later. Do not speak to anyone about what happened here –that includes Ron and Hermione. Oh, and could you stop by Professor McGonagall's office and ask her to join us in my office?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied again, and once again was all too glad to be able to leave. He turned and left the office with just one more over his shoulder.

Once again he checked his Map, and walked the halls. He was glad there weren't many students around, it was getting late and most were in the common rooms, but he still didn't run as fast as he had before. Thank god there hadn't been anyone to notice him run earlier. While he was supposed to be on patrol and could be anywhere in the castle he wished, running and perhaps his look might've raised questions he didn't want to answer, and now wasn't even allowed to. 

He noticed in spite of his reduced speed he was breathing hard, and he was shaking. He had faced worse things than Malfoy, yet he had still got a nasty shock. And he was angry, angry like hell. Even the past years, when Professor Snape had hated him, Harry hadn't wanted him to die. Away from Hogwarts, yes, but he couldn't wish anyone dead, except perhaps Voldemort. Now Professor Snape had helped him and was even starting to be friendlier towards his friends, and that greasy ferret had tried to kill him. He might not want anyone dead, but he realised he wouldn't be sorry to see Malfoy go to Azkaban at all. 

He reached Professor McGonagall's office, knocked and was admitted. She showed more shock at the news than either Dumbledore or Professor Snape himself, but she always showed more emotion. Harry was kind of glad to see her angry, it helped him get his own emotions back in control. Still, he was scowling when he entered the Gryffindor common room through the portrait hole. He went directly up to his room, avoiding all questions.


	14. Hogwarts reacts

**14. Hogwarts reacts.**

Professor Snape was silent as he walked the halls, holding Draco tight in his grip. After his outburst, the boy followed sullenly, and had not spoken again either. 

When Harry had come to get him, in spite of knowing better, he'd still hoped Draco merely attempted some stupid prank. Not that Draco was the kind of boy to pull pranks in a Potion's office, but it would've been better than this. All year he'd watched him and tried to reach him, but while in previous years he had been able to get the boy to talk, this year he'd just seen him get more withdrawn and more sullen towards him. Oh, Draco had always been polite, but the signs had been there. All year he'd seen him slipping away. Yet he had hoped, _had_ to hope, until he saw the items Draco had been handling. For more than four years he'd tried to reach the boy, and he had failed. 

He knew Draco was right, no one under sixteen was sent to Azkaban for anything less than the Unforgivables. He'd probably be placed with some renowned wizard family, who would be expected to raise him and keep him out of trouble. And with Lucius' influence that family would be no better than his own. There would be no one to stop him from becoming a Death Eater as soon as he came of age.

They reached Albus' office and he roughly pushed Draco on one of the chairs, instructing him to sit and stay seated. 

Albus sat at his desk and offered him a chair, but Professor Snape declined. He leaned against the Headmaster's desk, preferring to stand.

As they waited for Minerva to arrive, Draco started to lose his nerve and squirmed in his chair, visibly uncomfortable. 

They didn't have long to wait. While Minerva's office was slightly further from Albus' office than his own, he'd still had to reset the wards on his office. Minerva came in, visibly upset. Professor Snape sneered, couldn't the woman ever control her emotions?

Once again Professor Snape told what happened, in slightly more detail. He only left out the bit about Harry's Map, because of Draco's presence. 

Once again, Albus asked Draco for an explanation, and this time the boy did not raise his voice as much as he had, yet his words were little better. He also insisted he did not know who had given him the manticore blood and the Devil's fig, and while Professor McGonagall sniffed at that, Professor Snape believed him. The Malfoys were much too smart to simply hand their son the poison, most likely Draco had met with a hooded stranger -or an acquaintance he wouldn't recognise when masked- and had received the contraband from him. 

But believe him or not, he was of course prepared for this. He took the small vial of Veritaserum out of his pocket, which he'd thought to grab before leaving his office. Minerva had the gal to actually frown as he administered a few drops to Draco, but since she'd been the one to doubt Draco's story there was little she could say to protest. He sneered at her as Draco repeated what he'd already told them.

As they finished the interrogation, Albus cast a restraining spell on Draco, as well as a ward blocking all sound. 

"It's a pity he refused to implicate his father," Minerva said. 

"Lucius is too smart for that, he knew there was a risk Draco would get caught," Professor Snape pointed out. 

"And he still allowed Draco to try?"

Professor Snape shrugged. "I'm sure he encouraged him. As Draco pointed out, he's not sixteen yet. All that'll happen is he'll get placed under supervision of the Wizengamot, which means he'll be placed in care of some other Wizarding family. And with Lucius' connections that will be a family the Malfoys approve of. He'll take the Mark on his seventeenth birthday."

"He'll be well out of here," Minerva remarked, and Snape flinched. That was too much like what Draco had said. Minerva noticed his pained expression. "Oh, he's a Malfoy. Did you truly believe you could keep him from following in his father's footsteps?"

"I had hoped so. Foolishly, as it turned out," Professor Snape replied bitterly.

"Such hopes aren't foolish," Albus put in. "After all, we do have the students here for the better part of the year."

"Nevertheless, I failed," Snape replied shortly. 

"Few people are beyond help," Albus said. "Do you believe he had a chance?"

Professor Snape frowned. He wasn't sure what Albus was getting at. Draco was intelligent and could be polite and even caring if he chose to be. Yet his father and those around him had a great influence on him. And as long as Lucius had Fudge wrapped around his finger, it was unlikely that influence would be stopped, no matter what the Wizengamot's intentions might be. 

"Until last summer, I had a good report with him. After he learned I was a spy it's gone downhill. It's a moot point now, Lucius will make sure he's placed with a family like the Zabini's or the Parkinson's, who always kept their hands clean but will allow Lucius free access to raise his son any way he wants."

Albus looked thoughtful. "We might be able to stop that from happening."

"You can't suggest not calling the Aurors," Minerva said.

Albus shook his head. "No. But if a dependable, well-known wizard or witch would step forward to take custody of Draco, it might be possible to convince the Wizengamot to place Draco with them. And he would finally be out of his father's hands."

Professor Snape frowned. The Headmaster had a lot of influence, and he'd certainly managed a lot in the past, but he wasn't sure if he'd allow himself to be hopeful again. He had been once, and look where it'd got him. It was easier to expect the worst, that way there weren't so many disappointments. Trying to show little interest he asked, "Do you have anyone in mind?"

-0-

It was after midnight before Professor McGonagall came to get Harry. He had been sleeping –he'd pulled the curtains around his bed and pretended to be asleep so Ron wouldn't ask him any questions, but he'd quickly fallen asleep for real. Even so it's been a restless sleep and he started when Professor McGonagall woke him.

"Wha?!"

"Sh, don't wake everyone up," she said.

He nodded and quickly got up. Since he hadn't intended to truly fall asleep he was still fully dressed, apart from his shoes. He put them on, raked a hand through his hair –it always got messier when he slept, even for a couple hours- and followed Professor McGonagall to the Headmaster's office.

He found Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape waiting for him. Draco was gone.

"Sit down, Harry," the Headmaster said. "Lemon drop?"

Harry took one and sat down. 

"Where's Malfoy?" he asked.

"The Aurors have taken him to the Ministry in London," the Headmaster said. "Which is why we needed to speak to you tonight, in spite of the time. Since you were the one to discover him the Aurors will want to talk to you. Certainly at the hearing, when Draco will appear for the Wizard court, the Wizengamot. Possibly even before then."

Harry could hear in the Headmaster's voice there was more. He thought for a moment. "The Map," he realised. 

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Those present at the hearing won't know about your Map and I'd rather not anyone found out about it. Most noticeably Malfoy Senior. However, lying before the Wizengamot is not something I like to ask of you."

"It's better than Malfoy finding out about it, we might as well tell Voldemort himself," Harry replied with conviction. Then he frowned. "Will they use Veritaserum?"

"They rarely do, for underage wizards, although Mr Malfoy might suggest its use," the Headmaster said. "But even without that the pressure of the questioning can be quite heavy. I do not want you to make this decision lightly."

"I am sure, sir," Harry replied. "It was bad enough Crouch had it a good part of last year, if it becomes public knowledge half the Slytherins will be trying to get their hands on it." Then he suddenly remembered Professor Snape and added, "Sorry, sir."

"I'm afraid your assessment is quite correct in this case," Professor Snape replied tersely. "However, the Headmaster is correct, there will be a lot of pressure on you. There are ways to lie without being discovered, unfortunately I can not teach you in just a few days. The only thing I can advise you is to chose you words carefully, and to stay as close to the truth as possible. Don't say you saw or heard Malfoy, say you noticed him and you may not have to specify how exactly you managed that. To some extend, this method works even while under the influence of Veritaserum."

If the situation weren't so serious, Harry would have laughed. Professor Snape teaching him how to tell lies? But as it was, he just thought about what Snape had said, it did make sense. "I understand, sir."

"Good," Professor Snape nodded shortly. 

Professor McGonagall looked rather disapproving, or perhaps it was worried, Harry wasn't sure. But although he liked her, he trusted the Headmaster and Professor Snape in this. If they thought he could handle it, even if they did caution him, he'd probably be okay. 

"Other than where the Map is concerned, tell them the truth as well as you can. And just in case, I will take full responsibility for asking you to keep quiet," the Headmaster said, and Harry nodded again.

"What about anyone else -can I tell my friends in the morning?"

"I will make an announcement at breakfast. It won't hurt if you tell them before then if they ask you. Oh, and if people like Rita Skeeter or anyone you don't know tries to contact you, tell them to speak to one of us."

"Definitely, sir," Harry replied vehemently. He'd had enough of that Skeeter woman last year, and while he didn't know if she'd try to pull anything him again after Hermione caught her, he'd do his best to avoid her at all cost. He noticed a small smile on the Headmaster's lips and he wondered if the Headmaster knew what Hermione had done. 

"Then I believe it is well past your bed time."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

As he got up, Professor Snape moved as if to stop him, then looked at Professor McGonagall and hesitated. But before Harry could ask what it was, Snape decided to speak. "Seems I owe you again."

Harry started. He hadn't even thought of it like that. Having grown up in the Muggle world, he wasn't entirely comfortable with the entire concept of Wizard's Debt. "It was just luck I saw him on my Map."

"Perhaps. Yet even if anyone else could have seen him, I doubt many would have wondered what a Slytherin was doing in my office. Or cared enough to find out."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. He had never trusted Draco and he'd had a bad feeling the moment he saw the small dot marked 'Draco Malfoy'. Yet he was well aware he'd had similar feelings in his first year, then about Professor Snape. Rather misplaced, as it turned out. And he'd never get used to being treated as a hero, Professor Snape at least didn't take part in that most of the time. Not that he really thought he'd start now, but still. "It was just luck," he repeated. "I didn't do anything special."

"Nevertheless, it is our way," Professor Snape said. "And –thirty points for Gryffindor."

"Thank you, sir," Harry managed. 

Professor Snape nodded briefly and Harry knew he was dismissed. He made his way back to Gryffindor tower quickly, 

Back in his room, Ron woke as he was getting undressed. 

"Where'd you come from?" he asked. 

"Sh, tomorrow," Harry said, pointing at the beds of their roommates.  Again, against his expectations, he fell asleep quickly.

-0-

The next morning he woke to find Ron standing next to his bed. 

"You'll be late for breakfast! And you have to tell us what happened."

Harry sat up, the previous evening slowly coming back to him.

"Come on. First you come back early from your rounds, you don't want to talk to anyone, then you go sneaking around in the middle of the night -we figured you'd run into trouble with some of the Slytherins or something. But Dean was up early this morning and he says we're thirty points _up._ You got to tell us!"

With a sigh, Harry got up and grabbed his robes, ignoring Ron's impatient stare, and those of Neville, Dean and Seamus. Only when he'd got dressed he answered, "I can tell you now, the Headmaster will tell everyone at breakfast. I caught Draco last night, he tried to kill Professor Snape. Was about to release poison gas in his office."

Ron's eyes bulged. "What? Wow, that's big."

"He tried to –to _kill_ Professor Snape?" Neville asked.

"What'd Malfoy do that for, he's a Slytherin for Chrissakes," Dean wondered. Of course, Harry realised, there were rumors but few people knew for a fact that Professor Snape had been a Death Eater and a spy. He looked warningly at Ron, for he wasn't sure whether that was supposed to come out now, but Ron wasn't the one to bring it up.

"Well, you know how they say Snape was one of _them?_" Seamus said. "I guess maybe he was a Death Eater and got on the wrong side of them or something."

Harry shrugged and glared at Ron again and Ron, who'd opened his mouth to reply, shut it again. 

"So did the Headmaster give you those points then?" Dean inquired.

"Professor Snape did," Harry replied. 

"Professor Snape… _gave_ you points?" Dean asked incredulously. 

"Well, I guess, if Harry really stopped Malfoy from killing him," Neville said hesitantly. 

"Hey, you realise what this means? No more Malfoy!" Ron realised with a wide-eyed smile. 

"He'll definitely be expelled," Seamus agreed. 

"Think he'll be sent to Azkaban?" Dean asked. 

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. He was yelling and saying he wouldn't be going there since he wasn't sixteen yet, but I don't really know that much about Wizarding laws. The Headmaster called the Aurors, they took Malfoy to the Ministry last night, and there'll be a hearing."

"Yeah, that's right," Neville knew. "Under sixteen they won't sent you to Azkaban unless you use one of the Unforgivables, I think I heard that somewhere."

"Let's go down to the Great Hall," Ron suggested. "See what the Headmaster has to say."

Of course they had to stop in the common room and tell Hermione, as well as Lavender, Ginny and a bunch of other students who happened to overhear. All in all, they were almost late for breakfast.

Upon entering the Great Hall, it was clear the Slytherins also knew about Draco -their table was in uproar. Everyone was milling around Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy and the other fifth years. Harry wondered if Professor Snape had meant to tell them, or whether they had found Draco missing and gone looking for him. Probably even the Slytherins would care about one of their own, even if they were cold and hard to outsiders. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws looked rather confused and a few were over at the Slytherin table, trying to find out what had happened. Several came up to them when they noticed Harry and his friends were in on it as well, but before Harry could explain, the Headmaster called their attention.

"Everyone please be seated."

As everyone scrambled to their seat, the hubbub slowly died down. 

Harry turned in his seat and looked around the Great Hall. He didn't even hear the Headmaster's exact words as he looked around at the reactions of the other students. There was shock, puzzlement –the Headmaster did not say outright that Professor Snape had been a Death Eater, or had been spying on Voldemort- and everyone seemed to be eyeing him again. The Slytherins looked at him strangely, some almost appreciative and others frowning. Clearly most of them didn't hate their Head of House like Draco had, yet they were uncomfortable it had been him who'd discovered Malfoy. Harry felt himself wish it'd been someone else, too, although Professor Snape had been right. No one else would've had the means, or likely would've bothered to check it out even if they had seen Draco somehow. Professor Snape had a carefully blank expression, as usual when he wasn't frowning.

Harry was glad when the Headmaster finished speaking and the food appeared on the plates, even though this meant anyone who hadn't been there in the common room now asked him for more detail. At least he could eat and give short answers between bites. 

The barrage didn't stop until the first period had started and even during History of Magic he could hear the whispers as Lavender and Parvati were talking in their seats at the rear of the class. He really should get used to this kind of thing!

Then as he left the classroom to go to Divination with Ron, Professor McGonagall intercepted them. "Harry, there is an Auror here to see you. The Headmaster's office. Ron, please tell Professor Trelawney Harry will be late."

Ron looked wide-eyed, but nodded. "Yes, Professor."

Harry followed their Head of House as she walked the halls. He wasn't sure what to expect, he sure hoped it wasn't anyone too much like Moody. To his relief he found a young woman in the Headmaster's office, and the Headmaster nor Professor McGonagall made any move to leave. 

So, Harry went over everything -apart from the Map- again, and to his relief the Auror did not question how exactly he had known Draco was in Professor Snape's office. Before the period was half over he was back on his way to the Divination classroom.

At lunch Harry managed to eat quickly and ignore the stares from the other students, and Defense was al right with just the Gryffindors, but the last period of the day was Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins. As it had been at breakfast, for once they didn't form one front.  

Pansy stood with Millicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis behind her, glaring at him and breathing through her teeth to the point she was almost hissing like a cat. But Zabini and Daphne Greengrass kept well away from Pansy, avoiding her as much as they avoided the Gryffindors. 

And Crabbe and Goyle just looked lost without Draco to tell them what to do. They didn't as much as glare at Harry and even forgot to protest when Hagrid called them forward to groom Lumpy. Hagrid beamed as he assured them once again the Graphorn was quiet and gentle, and soon suggested they'd take a turn riding him. To Harry's astonishment, Crabbe let Hagrid help him up in the saddle and rode the lumbering beast around the paddock, and Goyle followed. 

"They'd probably jump in the lake if someone told them, now Malfoy isn't there to stop them," Ron remarked, rolling his eyes.

Harry kept a closer eye on Pansy than on the Graphorn, he didn't trust her when she was in this state. But none of the Slytherins tried anything, during class or afterwards. 

-0-

After the Auror left no one but the other students spoke to him about the incident, there were no owls and no reporters, something Harry was quite grateful for. 

He was more fortunate than Professor Snape. Dennis Creevey told everyone how Professor Snape had received a Howler during third period, although no one knew what it said, Snape had let it explode rather than open it. And rumor had it several Aurors had come to see him after classes. Certainly Snape was in as bad a mood as Harry had ever seen him by dinnertime. A Hufflepuff lost ten points when she came in and barely brushed against him in the doorway. 

Little happened Friday, except Professor McGonagall informed him Draco's hearing would be on Monday, and he'd be excused from all classes that day. In the evening, during their study group, Professor Snape walked out on the Animagus exercises, stating he couldn't concentrate and slamming the door so hard the ancient wood sported a crack until the Headmaster quietly repaired it.


End file.
